Choices
Contributed by girltranscended
on Tuesday, 17th May 2005 @ 09:08:21 PM AEST
Topic:
short
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When I came to, I realized I was still in the Trooper, and the broken glass beneath my face signaled something was not right. My hands lifted up my torso and I slid over and around the stick shift that jabbed into my hip. I made it back into the driver’s seat and a sharp piece poked me in the leg as I sat down. I pulled it out without thinking and threw it onto the floor across from me. It skidded off my Introduction to Philosophy textbook and lodged in the gray carpet. I tried the door. It was weightless, but opened only two inches before squeaking to a stop. With a grunt and both feet I forced it open, I found my bag and crawled outside, shaking off more broken glass. One back tire was still spinning, like a goddamn Ferris wheel, and when I walked by, I glared at it, as if that would make it stop.
Up on the road I glanced down at high-heeled feet, black, size 7 1/2, and checked myself for cuts and blood. My legs were thin and white as usual, but my eyes caught and lingered on a short trail of blood down my knee. Not bad though, I thought as my head and brown hair nodded sideways, not finding anything else, Could be worse, and I felt fine, so I figured I could still say I had never broken a bone in my life.
There were no lights to be seen, not even the moon, it was pretty damn dark, and windy. It is not normal to crash when you get a flat tire, I thought and laughed, a little. That damn car had bee lined for the f-ing ditch.
Well, my night out had officially turned from great to crappy. Instantly the skirt and heels that Paul had loved were inappropriate. A chill passed through me, and I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. My cell phone blinked its “Looking for service” icon. Eventually, I closed it. “Great” I said disgusted. How the Hell was I gonna get home? It would be hours before anyone even missed me.
So, I had to start walking. Where was everyone? I hadn’t thought it was that late, until I checked my watch. It was 2 a.m. Ah, the perfect time to get raped, robbed, and left for dead, the negative side of my psyche said. It happens to girls just like you, and Jenny. And indeed, as a young woman with nice hair and large breasts, I had already learned to be wary of strangers, of men in particular. Cause girls do get raped, and hurt, cheerleaders and nerds alike, even Jenny Malone who I grew up with, found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Jesus, she was 16, black and blue and nearly strangled, she ended up pregnant with that prick’s baby. And boy it screwed he up, physically and mentally.
I walked for a while following the edge where the pavement met the grass. I tried not to worry, a vibrant 20 year old with endurance built from years of playing softball, this was just today’s hurdle. I even tried to think of plausible, positive outcomes, but my mind conjured up CSI crime scenes, the kind where someone finds the half-naked dead body of a college girl just off the trail in some city park. And yeah, this was sure no walk in the park, but Hell, I’d give anything to hear my mother’s voice.
And then, in the distance, I glimpsed what I thought was a sign, and ten minutes later I stood in front of it, reading it silently, over and over in my head, like a preacher practicing for a funeral of a man he doesn’t know. ASHTON, 16 MILES. I started walking again, with less hope, and quite a bit less enthusiasm.
More than an hour passed and still no one drove by. The phone service in East Bumbedeere continued it’s nonexistence. My body shivered with cold, and my feet barely cleared the dirt each time I pulled one forward. Blisters grew across the soles like bedsores on an old man. But still, I sang to myself, maybe out of habit, maybe to calm my nerves. So at first, I didn’t even notice the headlights that lit me from behind.
But I heard it then, the weight and speed of it, like a huge airplane landing. It was an eighteen-wheeler. When it passed, my skirt and hair went shooting up and out in all directions, red lights flashed, my body clenched, and the brakes droned deep and heavy.
Okay, finally, finally somebody! The truck slowed to a stop and pulled just slightly off the road. My feet walked towards it. When I got up to it, close enough to read the plate; I saw that it said Wisconsin. A freakin’ Pabst Blue Ribbon beer truck, with a classic red, white, and blue logo. I just started to wonder who the Hell I was going to see behind the wheel when the passenger door popped open. The arm that retracted was large, hairy, and covered in tattoos. Oh crap.
But those tired, blister-heeled (obscenity omitted) marched me straight up the steps and into the cab. And although a smell hit me, sweaty and stale, the man I met there was undoubtedly more than I expected. He was actually handsome, if you liked guys wearing black bandanas and six-inch gray goatees. “Where ya headed sweetheart?” he hissed as he took me in, a man on the road a long time, lingering on my legs. He wasn’t shy about gawking, and he chewed something, that might as well have been wheat, or some other backwoods farmer favorite. Yet he still held a bad-boy-smirk on his tanned and unshaven face that I couldn’t quite read.
At first my mouth just hung there, gaping and useless. My left hand rested on the back of the large maroon seat, the other still on the open door. I didn’t like the way he was eyeing me, but what else are you gonna do? “Um, well, a.. a phone I guess, anywhere, the closest one.”
“Well close the door, let’s go pretty lady.”
I sat down and reached my arm out, my eyes settled on the handle. The heavy door closed easily and he was already on the move. I went for the seatbelt and followed it to the buckle. And as it clicked I noticed all the things I hadn’t seen right away. Like the scull hanging from the keys in the ignition, what appeared to be a knife, a big one, tucked in the seat pocket between us, and two maybe three porn magazines nearly hidden beneath the mass of coffee cups and cigarette packs, and, a rope? What the (another word omitted) was the rope for? Uncomfortably it was all becoming clear, my savior was a lonely trucker with a dark side.
“Don’t you worry, ‘ol Jimmy will get you there in a jiffy.” I tried to keep my cool. This will all be over soon. Ashton can’t be far now. “Not much traffic tonight” he said, not stifling a snicker. “Your lucky that I came along, and not some psycho who’d rip those fancy clothes right off ya.” Smirking again he reached for a cigarette. Once he had it in his hand, the other one lowered the window and reached back in his mouth for his gum. The cab immediately filled with cold air and the wind wrestled with my clothes. I felt even more exposed.
“So ya had some car trouble did ya?” he said without raising the window, “Hell of a night to be out there all alone… such a young, little thing, wearing Hell, next to nuthin”. He stared at me then and I imagined a big drop of drool might be next. “You got some…” He muttered stretching his hand towards me, his face sizing up its target. And when his fingers actually touched my leg I recoiled instinctively, my body tensed. I instantly felt like screaming. My insides twisted like the distended stomach of a dog near death. “...blood,” he continued, pulling his hand slowly back.
I didn’t know what to say, or do. I glanced out the window into the darkness and my eyes settled on my own panic stricken face. “Dirty, dirty girl.” he insulted to my back. I was motionless, and watched in horror as his blurry reflection reached for the knife. “But I’ll take good care ah you baby.” And then the truck eased off the gas and emitted that deep, droning noise once again.
Copyright © girltranscended
... [2005-05-1709:08:21]
(Date/Time posted on site)
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