Reluctant / Vacant

Chapter One: Her

Her

She didn't know what had gotten into her. But she found it exhilarating. Taking her father's project car for a night ride while he had gone on one of his 'work trips' was one sure way to get grounded for life, especially as she had just failed her driving test, again. But she did it anyway. Screw the rules, even though she could already imagine her father's condescending tone, blaming her for everything wrong with his life, even the parts which she didn't cause. He always found fault with everything she did. She already knew what he was going to say if she was caught, and it would start, like always, with blaming her for adding more stress on his life. Well, whatever he had to say, she would deal with it when she got home, which would probably be a week from now, gauging by how long his other 'trips' had taken.

For goodness sake, it was blatantly obvious that he was cheating on mother; at least it was to her, with the obviously bogus alibis, and the fact that he packed more condoms into his luggage than he had ever used with mother in a year. How mother didn't notice, she simply didn't understand. Perhaps, she was just going through the motions of a normal mariage, a mirage to hold onto what they had once had, or perhaps mother was just dumb, and oblivious to father's actions.

Either way, it was not her problem, even though it was unfair, really. Mother was a good woman who tried to keep the family together, even when father did things to her. Bad things. She deserved better than this kind of life, with a man who did not love her back. Well, never mind, she reminded herself that it was not her problem, and she had no say over what they did.

She turned on the radio to tune down her racing thoughts, and was met with a surprise. The station was playing Swift's version of Wildest Dreams, her favorite. After all, it pretty much mirrored her life. Or at least what she had dreamed that it would be. If only.

"He's so tall and handsome as hell"

What Taylor had been thinking when she had written those lyrics? Did she have someone like her? Harry Styles perhaps? Or did she just write those words for the sake of writing them out into a song? Well, she would probably never know. It was unfair really, celebrities leaving out such crucial parts of their lives. On the grand scale of things though, it didn't really matter. She would not like Taylor anymore. Not after she had promised herself that she would change to be someone he actually saw. Not just a shadow on the wall behind him. Whatever it took, she would do it, and eventually, she would be successful. Or at least she thought so. She promised herself that this would be her last Taylor song. A sort of farewell to the woman who had raised her. As This Love came on, she turned off the radio, and basked in the gentle hum of the well tuned V12. Glancing at the clock, she saw 22:45, she startled. Mother would be home in an hour, and she would have to get home before then; if she found out about this escapade, she would tell father, and her freedom would be cut short. She made a u-turn and punched the accelerator, watching as the speed needle steadily inched forward.

Then she looked up. The tree manifested itself out of thin air. At least it appeared that way, with her driving so fast. There was no time for her to avoid it. The next thing she knew, the calm night had turned into a chaotic and painful mess. She was entangled in the mangled wreck of the steering column, and shrapnel was all over her. She would have screamed with pain, had she not known that there would be no one to hear her.

She talked to herself; "Well, that sucked. What do I do now?"

She looked for her phone in the mess of what used to be a luxury car. There it was, in the back seat in which she had just pictured herself happy with him. In what seemed to be a herculean effort, she pried off the steering wheel and reached over to grab the phone, bleeding out a pool of blood as she did so. She weighed the consequences of calling for help, and she dreaded them. Maybe it was best to just lay alone and die in silence. Father wouldn't care either way, the car being totaled would be his greatest concern.

Finally, she reached a decision. It was better to face the consequences, than to become a consequence. She dialed for emergency services. It was the last thing she remembered.

Then bright lights, an ambulance, and then silence. The antiseptic smell of a hospital. Glimpses of something. Then darkness again. Total darkness.