The wind picks up as the car runs further down the road as we head away from Harvey's apartment. The cold night air picks at the windows along with small drops of liquid rain to match the crisped mood.
Terrified is not a word to describe how I currently feel. Terrified is when you're on a rollercoaster with a huge hill and a loop. When you finally reach the top and you're stupid enough to look down and find that if you were to fall right now, splat would all you'd be. Petrified doesn't fit either. That's when you here a noise walking home alone at night. When the shadows start appearing. Horrified is when your parents find your report card and you have all Fs from that semester. How could I possible describe my feeling right now, other than every ounce of my soul has now traded its vision of light and glory and bravery, to every pound of darkness and a boney skinny icy cold hand grabbing your neck in the dark?
The only warmth I feel is Tommy's jacket over my shoulders. I clutch it towards me some more. The sleeves are a little wet due to my fallen tears which have now stopped. My eyes are bloodshot red and the bits off green in my eyes have now fully shown with specks of red along in them. My side bangs are now covering one of my eyes on my right side. I feel like a helpless reptile in the frigid cold that couldn't escape their frozen death of a fate.
Jerome hasn't said a word since he shoved me out of Harvey's apartment and onto his car. His eyes glued to the road a head. He hasn't once looked in his back mirror or turned to see me struggling on my mind and soul. Lucky for me of course.
My eyes compete with my mind about staying open. My dreams about having a good night sleep have now completing faded away along with any chance of it ever happening again. All of this because I couldn't and wouldn't, let that woman die. Seeing her, there on the floor. Bleeding out against her will. Hoping and pulling onto those last threads of life. Made me realize how my mother must have felt. How she felt and I wasn't there to help her. How she died and I couldn't stop it. How I let her die.
I'm pulled away from my deep dangerous filled thoughts and turn my attention to the gas meter on the car. It's low. Which means he's gonna need to stop for gas. Slowly the car pulls to the side of the road and then stops. The blood stops traveling through my body and comes to a stilt. I tug my legs closers to my body silently.
A small click comes from Jerome's seatbelt buckle and retracts the belt to the side of the drivers seat. His eyes snap to the mirror making me flinch backwards deeper into the seat. Slowly he turns around in his seat and looks at me carefully. He leans forward a little so he's closer, yet still far away from me. I tug Tommy's jacket closer to me, which does not go unnoticed by him.
"I'm going to get out of this car and lock the doors. Then I'm going to refill the car with gas and get back in the car and I'm going to continue driving. If I catch you trying to escape and run away, I will catch you and make you wish you never went to close that window." He says in a low and dangerous tone. "Is that clear?"
My eyes stare deep into his. No answer leaves my lips as I contemplate my defeat and disastrous life.
"Is it?!" Jerome shouts angrily, almost growling.
I nod my head quickly as a few tears fall down my cheeks. The anger erases from his face and is replaced with no exact emotion. Almost like the one he showed before he shoved me out of the apartment. Like he was thinking of something else. Something more cruel. He reaches his hand towards my face and I let out a whimper as I flinch back and shut my eyes. As he did last time, his hand cherishes my face. His thumb wipes away my tears from my face. I open my eyes slowly. Feeling the world and shadows pushing me into darkness which is him.
YOU ARE READING
"That was the courts choice and I jumped on the first train when I realized this town has nothing for me left." Jessica Blair lived in Boston for her entire life. Raised only by her mother Rosa, she grew up to be a beautiful, untrusting, sixteen ye...