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The Truth

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It wasn’t supposed to rain today. Closing the front door silently behind me, I curse to myself. The weatherman lied to me. Truth is I wanted to slam the door shut to wake the body that was asleep inside and to let the one that wasn’t know that I wasn’t coming back. I run down the driveway to the car without my umbrella, rain splashing beneath every rushed step soaking the bottom of my jeans. The door of the old green Toyota, my dad gave me, opens after a hard shove then pull. I get in, my clothes sticking to my skin. My chest heaves with harsh breaths. I just sit, the heat blasting through the vents.. Maybe it would somehow dry my clothes and get rid of the goose bumps and my fear.
The car in front of me is just a little too close and the urge to ram it crosses my mind. My mother’s boyfriend wouldn’t like that. That’s why it crossed my mind. The rain runs down the windshield like silent waves. I try to turn on the wipers but they don’t work. The heat stops blowing. Then a clacking sound stops everything. What the heck? NO. The engine dies. The only gift I got from my dad was this piece of junk. Now I can’t use it to get away from this place.
“This is so stupid” I said cursing the car and the weatherman. “Thanks a lot!”

There is no point to curse the reason for leaving in the first place because he wasn’t going anywhere according to my mother. So I guess it had to be me. I look out the driver’s window and watch the figure that watches me. His face is blurred by the rain but already I know it so well. It came to me too often in my nightmares, eyes blazing and dark, menacing and scary, making reality too real.
I slam my hands on the steering wheel and the car horn goes off making my head hurt, possibly waking my mother. Simon moves away from the window, the curtain falls back into place. I push open the door then slam it shut. Rain pours down on me again, frustrated tears mixes in with it. The cold strikes my skin like spears. I want to scream but I don’t.
I begin to walk. I didn’t want to go back. Where am I going? I don’t know. I don’t care. The street lights shine like spotlights on the side walk. There no lights coming from the windows of my neighbors. At least they can sleep peacefully. The sky is dark. The rain makes it hard to see in front of me. I look back down the street and I can’t see my car or that house that caused me to break down at night when ever I would hear my door start to squeak open. Hear footsteps being muffled by my carpet. Feel the rough hands against my skin, over my mouth. Hear the threats, see his eyes. I breathe out. I didn’t know I was actually holding my breath until I saw it.
I start to cross the street wanting to put even more distance between me and him. Headlights appear out of nowhere, seeming to break open the curtain of rain. Breaks screech and death swerves past me and crashes into a tree. Right then I wished that my mother knew the truth. Right then I wish I wasn’t so afraid.



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