I was walking down the road when a 1960 Stingray pulls up beside me and I see this...punk, that's the only thing I can call her, her hair is done up in a sloppy ponytail, with grease in it, my feet are aching and who knows she may know may family. I slowly walk towards the call, twirling the bar faster the closer I got. She hollers out the window, "Scratch the paint and you'll be fixing it, get in and hurry. I am late as it is.". Where is she late to? But I get in, and she rolls up her window and turns the music up, and drives back down the road.
I can tell she's looking at me; I know I must look weird, I'm dirty, I haven't eaten in three weeks, yet I already look like skin and bones and I was probably pretty dehydrated too. We don't speak. I just sit there lost in my thoughts. Darek is going to be after me, I know he is. I shake my head, to get rid of any thoughts about Darek, escaping that h*ll house, and any other thoughts about them. I close my eyes and try to rest atleast for a minute, but as soon as I do, it happenes again, I'm back at that house fighting for my life. I must've screamed becasue the girl asks, "What's wrong?".
I ask, "Can you just drop me off somewhere?". She asks, "Why?". "I just need a quiet place to think." is all I mange to say, until I see an SUV following us. "How fast can this car go?" I ask out of fear. The girl looks at me and asks, "Why are you asking me that?". I take a deep breath and then say, "There's a black SUV following us, either go faster or let me out so I can run.". She looks at me funny and then looks in the rearview. Her expression changes from upset/concerned to pure fear.
"This car can go atleast 220 when I'm really in a hurry, but I can make it go faster than that, and let's find out how much that is.". She pushes the gas pedal all the way down to the floor. The needle hits 220, but begins to go higher. Now we're going 280 almost 300 down a county road. I keep staring back, we haven't lost the SUV yet, not by a long shot. I ask with a hint of irritation (not at the girl but at the SUV), "Got any weapons? Any guns?". She says, "There's a 44 mag in the glove box. I haven't used it in years.".
I open the glove box to find the gun. It still has at least five bullets in it. I whisper, "This'll do.". The girl screams at me as I open the widow and set on the door, "WHAT THE H*LL ARE YOU DOING?". I put one hand on the top of the car and steady the gun, aiming at the tires, then I slide back down. "Never thought I'd have to do that again." I mutter to myself.