The Dawn of Realization.

Chapter Eleven.

        Paranoia racked my body as I crossed the parking lot from school the next day. I kept looking left, then right, then left again. I could feel his eyes on me, even though I knew my Uncle Rich was nowhere around. I couldn't help but feel as though he was on to me; that he knew that I knew. 

     I didn't go to the police with my new found theory, because they hadn't even looked through the text messages I had shown them, and that had been proof. 

     I slid behind the wheel of my car and glanced around the parking lot again, making sure there weren't any cars following me out.  

     After a brief talk with Wendy yesterday, I had fully convinced myself that it was uncle who had killed my father and made it look like a suicide. All for the insurance money that I would get on my eighteenth birthday. 

     I felt as though I couldn't breathe, knowing that my uncle could do something so heinous to his own brother, and soon, possibly his niece. Especially since my mother was still totally shut down after reading the letter that had been left behind. She hadn't muttered a single word to me since. I didn't even know who to turn to anymore, since Thierry just thought I should leave things alone.

      And maybe I should just ' leave things alone,' but I couldn't. My dad deserved to be remembered as more than just the guy who killed himself. And my Uncle Rich was just going to get away with murder. 

     I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and focused on the drive to work, paying more mind to the road than the swirling thoughts inside my head.  

     All night at work, I was imagining things moving outside the windows or strange noises coming from the back room. I was so relieved when my other shift mate came in around seven O' clock that I greeted her with a smile. I think I freaked her out a little. 

     When my shift was finally over at ten, I crossed the parking lot quickly with my little can of pepper spray in my hand- ready to use. I checked the front seat and back seat before I got in my car, locking the doors, and starting the engine swiftly. 

     My eyes wandered over the parking lot that was empty aside from Abby's, my shift mate, little Focus near the front doors. I didn't see anyone around here either, but I could still feel something tingle its way up my spine. 

     Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, though, I started my way home. 

    I was coming around a back road when a car with their brights on came across my lane. Instinctively, I hit the brakes. They went all the way to the floor, but the car didn't slow down. Panicking, my heart in my throat, I stomped the brakes again. And again. And again. Nothing. 

     " Oh no. " I whispered, watching the road and then the sped-o-meter. I continuously hit the brakes over and over again, feeling nothing but the pedal hitting the floorboards. 

    " Oh no no no no. " I repeated as I frantically swerved around the curves and turns, trying not to hit anything or anyone. My eyes found the emergency brake and I pulled it back, feeling a rough pull on the car. 

     In my panic, I over-corrected a turn, hit the curb and felt my car fly up on one side. Side over side it went over the guard rail. It came to a rest on it's top, where I lay sprawled out. 

     I could hear the groaning of the car above me, but I couldn't muster enough strength to pull myself free. The seat belt was tangled around my leg and my arm was trapped behind my head. 

     The darkness came at me like a suffocating blanket that wrapped its arms around me tightly. 

I stood in front of the wreck that was once my beloved Cutlass, arms crossed, and lips pursed shut. I had escaped the accident with a little more than a concussion, cut lip, and a cracked wrist. 

     I stared down at the purple cast on my left arm, blankly, then back to my car. The roof was caved in from the flips and the passenger side was smashed inwards.

     " The brakes had failed, " was what the mechanic had ruled it so I could put it down on a car insurance claim. Those four words ricocheted through my mind over and over again. 

     The brakes had failed. The brakes had failed. The brakes had failed. 

     " You are one lucky girl, " Uncle Rich said as he looked at the crumpled steel and rubber across from us. He whistled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. 

     I glanced over at him, staring hard at his face, his aloof features. How at ease he was in that moment, but looking deeper I saw it in those blue eyes of his; of mine. The darkness that was lurking inside of him- the murderer. 

     I knew he was the reason why my brakes had failed. He was probably the one I thought I'd seen that night at work. He had sabotaged my car, in hopes I would die and he'd get all the money. 

    I had called my mom to come and get me, but she had sent my uncle instead, without knowing my suspicions and in that moment when he had pulled up in his Tiburon, I wished I hadn't held back from her. 

    But I had decided that I couldn't be afraid of him anymore, I had to figure this out delicately. I couldn't spend every day looking over my shoulder or checking my brakes. 

    Casting another glance at my ruined car, the one my father had bought for me as a birthday present, I turned and got in Uncle Rich's car. He quietly got behind the wheel and turned the engine over. 

     I folded up the mechanic's findings for my insurance and tucked them in my jacket pocket, pressing myself against the door, as far away from him as possible. My heart was pounding in my ears and I wondered briefly if he could hear it, too. 

     " So, you feel better, Dawn?" He asked, tearing a hole in my perfectly drawn up barrier of silence. 

     " Yeah, still a little sore. " I answered, simply. 

     " Yeah, you sure we lucky you weren't really hurt. " He said, feigning relief. I looked over at him, wondering if he would try anything even when my mom was waiting for me at home as we spoke. 

     " Yep." I said, inhaling slowly. " Wonder what caused my brakes to fail. They were new two months ago. "

     " Oh, you know how those old cars can be. You never can be too careful in them. " He waved it off, watching the road. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, memorizing his every movement. He seemed so calm right then, but I felt nothing inside of me. I just stared emptily. 

      " Or someone could have cut my brake lines. " I blurted before I could stop the words from moving past my lips. 

     " What? Now who would do such a thing to you?" He pretended to be surprised by my revelation, but I seen how his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. 

    " I don't know, just a hunch I have ever since dad died." I shrugged, staring at the window, watching his expressions changed from the side view mirror. 

     " Well, I'm sure you're safe. I'll keep an eye out for you. " He said, eerily calm again. I turned my head to look at him just as he did the same.

     In that moment, he knew I knew. I could see it in his eyes as we shared that cold stare. Uncle Rich, who looked so much like my dad, was the one who had set up his murder to make everyone think my dad had committed suicide. But not me, I would never think that. 

     And Uncle Rich knew he hadn't fooled me when we shared that look; all of my suspicions were transferred over to him. He seen it and I felt it. We knew about each other and he swallowed, hard.  It was all blatantly laid out before him and I. 

    He knew I knew he killed my dad. He knew I had been suspicious of him for a long, probably was the one who had taken his phone. The one who had been watching him a little more closely. 

    He killed my dad and he had tried to kill me and now I was stuck, alone, in the same car with Uncle Rich.