Nemelatro: Dawning (Rough Draft)

Three- Dannie

“What the fuck? Way to go bud, almost kill us both,” I cursed slamming on the brakes, for the millionth time, as I got cut off by yet another Vancouver driver. My nerves were completely shot from how many times I almost hit or was hit by someone. Four years driving in northern British Columbia and I had less close calls than one morning in the lower mainland. Regretting my refusal of Matt coming with me; he could have been the one dealing with these crazy drivers.

I chugged back the last of my coffee, trying to calm down. The previous several hours sailing down the highway was easy compared to the last hour trying to navigate Vancouver streets and drivers.

“Turn left, in the next five hundred meters, onto highway seventeen” my phone chimed.

Finally, I had made it to the Tsawwasen ferry terminal in one piece. I watched as the eight o’clock ferry was already loading lines of cars ahead of me and cursed getting turned around and being late. I just hoped to make it on this sailing, not wanting to wait an hour for the next. I was exhausted from the long drive and wanted it to be over with. 

I sighed with relief as my crappy little car was the last to be loaded. Trying to relax, I leaned against my steering wheel, watching people weave in and out of vehicles as the loud speaker directed them to the upper levels. If it was up to me, I would stay and sleep in the car, but nope, no passengers allowed to stay on the vehicle levels.

Groaning, I hauled myself out of my car, stretching to regain feeling in my legs. I breathed in the salty air, enjoying the warmer May weather. Trudging up the stairs, it felt claustrophobic with so many people around me. Stopping at a vending machine, to avoid everyone clambering to the cafeteria, I grabbed the biggest coffee. It was terrible, but I needed something to fuel me through the rest of the trip.

Inside, the boat was packed with people, so I made my way to the front deck. I wouldn’t say I didn’t like people, but being surrounded by so many was not for me. The ferry was just making its way out of port, but the further away we got, the more breathtaking the view became and the more eased I felt. The ship glided across the shimmering water as the wind and engines drowned out everything else.

The last time I made this trip was with Aunt Helen when I was ten. She had loved the ocean, living in Victoria before she moved to the Caribou to take care of me. I remember watching the wake of the ferry and exclaiming I had seen something swimming alongside the boat. Aunt Helen had joked that maybe it was a mermaid, and even then, I told her that was childish. That trip had been one of the happiest times of my life, with her showing me all the sights Victoria had to offer. Aunt Helen had made me feel loved and cared for and that I could always count on her.

The happy memory soured with the realization that I was returning to Victoria without her because she was declared dead. My eyes stung from the tears that wanted to fall. It was like losing her all over again because now, she was legally dead and really gone. All the good memories I shared with her did not seem like enough, compared to how many she was missing and how many more I wanted. I never got to share my first legal drink of alcohol with her. She will never see the day I get married if it ever happens, and none of it feels fair.

Without permission, a sob escaped me, and as I stared out at the open ocean, the one she loved so much, I let it go. I cried and sobbed. I cursed whatever divine power there was, for letting her be taken and killed. There, on a lonely deck, with my auburn locks whipping in a torrent of wind, I let myself break.

I never cried this hard in my life; my face is drenched in tears. It feels like ice from the wind but fire from the force of sobbing. Even four years ago, I did not let it out like this, and I was just glad  the deck was deserted. “Why?! Why did you have to take her? Fuck you, you cosmic controlling FUCK!” I screamed out to the wind.

After what felt like an eternity, I started to dig myself out of my despair. At some point in my sobbing, I had fallen to my knees, so I picked myself up and wiped my red swollen eyes. I pulled the hood of my sweater up and made my way inside, avoiding the eyes of anyone. Fuck the rules, I was sleeping in my car till it was time to unload. My eyes burned painfully and I needed to sleep if I was going to do anymore driving today.

Jolting awake by pounding  on my window, I came face to face with a pissed looking ferry worker. Springing up I gave him a sheepish look as he scowled at me and waved to the open exit. I was the last person on the ferry and by the looks of the pissed off faces I was putting them behind schedule.

Driving out into the terminal, I could feel my ivory facing burning with embarrassment. I pulled off into the parking lot, checking the mirror I could see my face was looking like a tomato and groaned at my own stupidity for over sleeping. Opening the GPS on my phone, I inputted the address to Johnston Law. To my surprise I recognized the Butchart Gardens, close to the address tag.

“Why would anyone put an office there?” I cursed my procrastination and not checking the address when I was home. If this was some kind of prank I was going to kill someone. My phone showed I still had to drive twenty more minutes in Victoria, which had me groaning. “If people drive like Vancouver here, I really am going to murder someone.”

*How are we feeling about the short chapter? Dannie has a bit of a foul mouth. Will not lie. She gets it from me, lol.*