The car made a drifting sound. Wheels turned, gears were shifted, people were changed. The car had picked up speed and began making a break for the nearest escape. Family was still sitting in front of the policecar they were stopped at.
"Your fault, my consequences? Not anymore. Goodbye."
The driver blinked, and realized he had been imagining things again. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The car, the real car was driving over an old bridge made mostly of bricks.
Then the driver decided it was time to stop blaming others, and take the final step. The metal railing snapped like a twig as the car went straight trough it, now falling towards the darkness below.
