Basket Case ━━━━ JJ Maybank︱✓

𝟬𝟬𝟱 people are stories

          Her intoxicated state only intensified her feelings as she made her way through the party, trying to find her way to her car. She thought her car was the perfect example of an act of rebellion. It was an old, ugly car—a 1963 Mercury Comet convertible. Her mother had passed it down to her, and she adored it. Her father said it was preposterous, which only made Izzy love it more. She could have had a Cadillac, but she chose this car. This was her choice, and she discovered she liked making her own decisions.

          Izzy wasn't allowed to make her own decisions. Her father wouldn't allow it. But tonight, Izzy had discovered her forgotten love for deciding for herself. She had almost forgotten how freeing it was, and she never wanted to let the feeling drift from her consciousness. But Izzy was a cluster-fuck of emotions and she should have known, the feeling wouldn't last forever.

          She tried to focus on that feeling of freedom as she walked further away from Rafe and stumbled up the stairs, but the heavy feeling in her chest overpowered all her other emotions. She struggled to make her way through the house, shoving warm bodies out of her way as she walked to the front entrance. She made it to the door, opening it only for hot air to slap her in the face. She walked through the heat, making her way to her car—her safe place. When she slammed the car door behind her, she sat there for a moment, drifting in her thoughts. She knew she should have just sat back and waited until she sobered up, but she had this sinking feeling in her chest that if she stayed, she'd regret it more.

          With tears streaming down her cheeks, Izzy turned on the engine and pulled out of the driveway. She sped onto the main road, trying her best not to swerve, but she ended up hitting a few mailboxes and trash cans. She knew she should have pulled over, but she couldn't bring herself to put her foot on the brakes, she just kept going no matter how hard she cried.

          She didn't know where she was going. At first, she thought home was the most obvious answer, but the more she drove, she realized she was heading toward the same road where her mother lost her life. The realization only made her speed up.

          When she approached the road, she put her foot on the brakes and stared up at the traffic lights. Green lights stared back at her, mocking her. Her mother had sped through one red light because of her and then she was gone. It was just one. Izzy had sped through those same red lights many times and nothing happened. It wasn't fair. It was her fault. Why couldn't the world give her a break and take it out on her? Karma was a bitch. She knew that. She just wondered when it'd take out its wrath on her. After all, she deserved it. She ruined everything in her life, she always had.

          The lights flashed yellow and Izzy readied her foot on the gas pedal. She wondered what would happen if she was hit. Would she die? What story would she leave behind? Would it be one she was proud of?

          A few seconds later, the lights flashed red and Izzy slammed her foot on the accelerator, causing the wheels to squeak against the pavement as she sped down the road. She prepared herself for impact, but deep down, she knew nothing was coming. Her heart pounded in her chest, quickening as she passed through red light after red light. She would have kept going, but she caught sight of a group of people stepping off onto the road, and she immediately stomped on the brakes. The impact forced her forward, but because of her intoxicated state, she didn't catch herself in time. Her head slammed against the steering wheel, making her head spin.

          "What the hell, Izzy? Again?" a male voice yelled at her, but his voice was muffled in her ears. Her heartbeat pounded in her head, screaming at her. "Do you really want me dead that bad?"

         Izzy didn't bother looking up to see who she had almost hit, she was too busy trying to collect her thoughts. She groaned as she pulled her head from the steering wheel and massaged her temples. Blood trickled down her fingers from a small cut on her forehead, but other than that, she was fine. She realized then that maybe this was her karma. Maybe she was forced to watch bad things happen around her without anything ever actually happening to her. Maybe she was the villain in her own story. After all, she deserved it.