Cry of the Mockingbird

15 0 12
                                    

A groan left her lips. Eyelids heavy but still able to open encountering a sea of blurred dulled color.

Pain. The overwhelming sensation spiking with even the slightest movement of a limb. Her husband, where was he. She quickly turned her head, her eyes watered. She had to check. She had to make sure he was all right. "John!"

She could just make out her newly wed husband in the dimly lit darkness, hanging upside. He did not respond. Another groan escaped her gashed lips. She willed her hand to move. She had to reach him. Fingers were slow to respond, but gingerly they obeyed. She hissed through gritted teeth as they protested.

The sound of crunching leaves. Was someone out there?

"Help" the word cracking at the salty taste of her own blood. A figure crouched down next to the cracked window, shoes smushing the shards of glass into the mud. A hand gently dusted away at the stubborn shards hanging on. Twinkling of glass hit the hood of the vehicle. Arm extending through the spiderwebed hole of the glass. Safely gloved fingers pressed against his skin to check for a pulse on the man's neck.

"Is he dead? Oh God, please don't let him be dead. John! John!"

The hand retracted. The figure rose to feet and moved. Not answering the question, She didn't need the answer. The question was rhetorical. So much blood. Eyes looking but not seeing, only the seat belt wrapped over his chest kept him upright.

"He's dead." The voice beside her confirmed. No emotion echoed in it's depth, only the plain truth.

"Help him." She pleaded, as she gazed at his limp form, his head hanging awkwardly. She could not bare to see him in the position. "Get him out."

Silence ensued for a long time.

"Did you hear what I said? Fuck! Help him! We just got married, We just graduated. We were going to start our life together. Help him!"

"I can't" another simple answer, Taryn was getting tired of the simplicity this stranger was giving to the complexed turmoil she felt. Her temper boiled. Her adrenaline fighting the shock. She strained her head to face the speaker.

Face lit in the white pyramid from the motorcycle headlight. 

"You." pure disbelief whispered.

The woman's eyes searched Taryn's, giving the trapped time to evaluate the gravity of the situation. "I have a name, it's Lacet."

***

4 years earlier. 

The pointer circled over the list of names, pictures of random people of who had viewed her profile lined in chronilogical order. 

"I don't know why you bother with this."

Hotchick76. Match 4%. Moving on. 

"Online dating is crap."

"In your head" Lacet finally mumbled, a little irritated with hearing this same lecture once again. Match 84%. Not interested. Scrolling down. Just looking. Match 75 %. "I have rules. I am careful." An attempt to calm down the other. 

"You never know their intention! It could be a damn old fartface jacking off behind the screen to all these lesbian photos." 

The scrolling stopped. "Terah."

"What?" shouting. 

The calmer woman rubbed her head in frustration. This was one of the many times, Lacet appreciated no one being able to hear her other side. She couldn't handle the eyes and ears of those in the library. "If you could give me a second to think. please." Aggravated she clicked on the last account name without really paying attention. 

Cyber Love CrimesWhere stories live. Discover now