Running Away

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Past seventy-five, reaching eighty, climbing up towards ninety, she eased the accelerator down watching her speed increase. She did it gradually, savoring the rush. It was dark. Other cars switched lanes as she came careening down the highway. Her exit was coming up but she refused to slow down. She turned the radio up, it was an unfamiliar song but she enjoyed the swinger’s soft, husky voice and the loud guitar. Exit 43 loomed up ahead and she deliberately switched to the third lane. She flew by the exit and grinned. Usually she went straight home after babysitting; she had dinner and finished her homework. But tonight she wanted to drive. Homework was superfluous, school did not mean as much as it used to.

The windows were down despite the chilly November air. She hit the side of the car with her hand in beat to the music and watched the speedometer hit 92. She wasn’t sure where she was headed or what she hoped to gain by driving onwards. Everywhere was closed and she wasn’t quite sure how she would get home. Reluctantly she reset the GPS that her parent’s had bought her. It told her to get off in two exits and after a while she reluctantly slowed down.

Six minutes later- the GPS had predicted the time perfectly- she turned into her driveway. She considered backing in to stay in the car a little longer but that would please her father immensely and she didn’t want that. She walked through the door lethargically and turned on the lights; mom was at church and dad was at her younger brother’s basketball practice.
She sat down at her desk with the intention of starting physics. Out of habit she opened up Facebook and her e-mail. And there, glaring out at her, was the rejection e-mail from the ivy league she had dreamed of attending. And already on the facebook newsfeed her fellow classmates joyous posts about their college acceptances.

She lost all appetite for homework . But she wasn’t tired enough to go to sleep. So she wasted her time looking around facebook and at various other sites. Shortly before twelve o’clock she remembered the song that had provoked her to speed up her car. She checked the radio listing and found it. It was called “Survivor”.





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