Day 17: Write a scene that you've always been afraid to write about; break out of your comfort zone.
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Peter was sweating all over, adrenaline coursing rapidly through his veins. It was a quiet night, his ears filled with only the sound of his car engine and his own heart's loud thumping. His eyes darted to the rear view mirror. They red car was still there, hot on his tail. He could faintly make out his girlfriend's figure in the passenger seat, squirming and nearly bursting with suppressed screams.
Just minutes ago he'd been devastated when he found her in Brody's clutches, tied to a chair with duct tape over her mouth. But now he couldn't care less about what would happen to her--there was no way he was giving the money back to that psycho.
The money his Dad had earned through their company. The money his Dad had worked so hard to earn for them. The money Brody had heartlessly stolen from them years ago. The money his Dad had died for.
The money he was taking back. Finally.
Peter knew he was speeding at a dangerous velocity, but at the moment he saw no real danger to it. It was 2 AM, the streets were dark and desolate. And nothing really mattered but taking the money back to his deranged mother. Maybe--just maybe--it would give her some peace of mind.
As he sped by the local butcher's shop, he felt a small wave of relief wash over him. All he had to do was cross the bridge and he'd soon be home to his mother--a place he hadn't been to in months.
He almost smiled...but then his headlights caught the yellow sign, the words BRIDGE UNDER CONSTRUCTION flashing in the darkness. He widened his eyes and grit his teeth. Death was mere seconds away from him. He could feel its cold, unforgiving grasp at the back of his neck. It was too late to escape it, and there was no way he was ever letting that criminal take him alive. He was as good as dead no matter what he did.
He stomped on the accelerator and didn't even flinch as his car crashed against the warning signs, reducing them to splinters. For a moment he was in the air, and he could feel his stomach in his throat. The windshield cracked on impact, and it was only a few seconds before the water started entering through the open windows.
He didn't bother holding his breath. Instead, he sat back and watched the money float back to the surface of the river.
