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roxane
Senior Member
since 1999-09-02
Posts 505
us

0 posted 2000-01-01 04:18 PM


   It was the first time in a long time that I was glad to drive.  I loved that car.  It, a 1989 Volvo, beige, sort of out of place with its regalty on the country road, hugged every turn.  By my side, my best friend Molly, was laughing as we sped down the street.  I felt young, but not wholly, only to the point where i could outwardly enjoy our little venture.  
   "You need to turn left here," she said, pointing to an intersection.  There was a caution light, blinking bright red, and cars whirring down the street perpendicular to us.
   "Okay," I said, as I inched my car up to see around the telephone pole obscurring my sight.  What happened next, I don't know.  Perhaps I pulled too far, for I had never driven that road before.  Nevertheless, I saw a car coming down the street, suddenly slam on its brakes, and go careening off the road, colliding with guard rails, sparks flying in every direction.  
  "They're going off the road!"  Molly shrieked.  I found myself aghast, unable to do anything, except wait, as though there was some comic relief to come.  The car was going far too fast for my eyes to see.  I heard a crash, the crunch of metal on metal, and then, a queer silence.  
   The other cars seemed to have stopped, all seemed to be pointing fingers straight at me.  My chest, heavy and tense, I felt on fire, and drove my car quickly to where the other car had crashed.
   It was nestled against a telephone pole.  I ran up to the driver, a short middle aged woman.
   "Is everyone okay?" I breathed, panicked and shaking.
   She reached out to me, took me in her arms, and said very softly, "By the Grace of God, yes."
   Gingerly, she removed her two children from the car.  One was small, probably 5 years old, with a sweet, dumb face.  The other was an older child, who sat scared constantly, crying although not hurt.
   "Why did you pull out in the road like that?" she demanded.
   "I didn't."
   Other cars began to crowd around us, police taking names, witnesses giving accounts.  The driver was tired, she had said, and asked me to hold her child for her.  I took the little one in my arms, and she laid her head down on my shoulder.
   "I'm sorry,"  was all I could manage.


   When I finally returned home, to a blank empty house, I ran to the bathroom, feeling ill with emotion.  I looked in the mirror.  I have to say that I was shocked by what I saw there.  My face was bright, brilliant white, and my cheeks scarlet.  It was amazingly beautiful, and at the same time, I was so desperately scared.  I recalled, I relived the whole day over and over in my mind.   I thought of the blase attention that I gave my youth, and the gut-wrenching fear that made me really feel alive.  I held that little girl in my arm, so precious, so sweet, and yet, minutes before it was the fear of her dying that gave me such a pure emotion, that I realized my sense more acutely that I ever had.  
  It was purity.  The fear had cleansed my soul, and the panic awakened me inside.  It had been so long since I had felt something that intensely, and to say that I didn't like it would be wrong.  Whether or not the whole thing was my fault, I still don't know, but it became me, and I became it, the whole incident.  I could love, but never love as deep as I feared that night.  I could hate, but never as fervently as I feared.
   I went to bed, all a flush, my color never changing.  I couldn't sleep, and the guilt that I derived such pleasure from the incident hardly made a dent in warm afterglow I experienced.  I dreamed of those children, and their mother, and the heap of a car that sat in front of the telephone pole.  And when I woke up, stoic, and emotionless, like it had never happened at all.  There was only one thing, and that was the memory of the beautifully passionate fear.


   "What happened here?"
   "This girl pulled out in front of me."
   "No, I didn't," and my face went pale again, as the sound of a far off ambulance closed in on the scene.


 "Come night, come darkness, for you cannot come too soon or stay too long in such a place as this." Charles Dickens


roxane



© Copyright 2000 roxane - All Rights Reserved
merlynh
Member
since 1999-09-26
Posts 411
deer park, wa
1 posted 2000-01-01 05:50 PM


I liked the emotions that were pushing their way out during the reading, one's we never understand.  Good writing
Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187
St. Paul, MN
2 posted 2000-01-01 11:47 PM


Good writing, interesting topic, and something I've never really thought of before.  Intriguing little story, thanks for posting  

 In flames I shall not be consumed, but reborn. -- Abrahm Simons



Songbird
Member Elite
since 1999-12-15
Posts 2184
Missouri
3 posted 2000-01-02 12:32 PM


Wow, this really caught my attention! It certainly is a different angle on a car wreak, the hidden story so to speak.
patchoulipumpkin
Member
since 2000-01-01
Posts 196
Bermuda
4 posted 2000-01-02 01:52 AM


Hi there, i just read your piece and its a very interesting one.  I too can relate to that moment where fear seems to light you up like a lantern, and it won't leave you until much later.  A comment on the writing itself, i'm not sure if you are open to comments on it, in that i am new to the game.  In any case, disregard these next ideas if you aren't. I found the writing a bit confused, it seemed more like a journal entry than a story, i mean a story was conveyed, certainly, but it seemed to have been displayed from a varying perspective that jumped from first person, to third and back again.  My impression is that there was too much that was trying to be told, too much was trying to explain itself, when it might have been easier to simply focus on one or two major arteries.  However, i did enjoy the topic.
Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296
Purgatorial Incarceration
5 posted 2000-01-02 06:49 PM



Another welcome addition to prose Roxane!

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