Regrets

Chapter Six

We decided to take one car. We went back to Colton's house and he grabbed a few things for the journey. We withdraw his money from his bank account, and now we're on our way. Colton called his uncle and told him we were coming. He sounded quite pleased. I think he assumes we're just staying for a little while.

The car is silent. Colton sits with his hands in his lap and is looking out the window. 

I have one hand on the steering wheel and the other is against the door holding my head up.

We've been driving for about 18 hours. We've stopped a couple times. Not many. Once to shower at a gym, another to get dinner, then we stopped and checked into a hotel to sleep, now we're on the road again. We have about one thousand dollars. We have about three or four hours until we reach Florida. When we get to the border, Colton is supposed to call his uncle and we'll meet him at the first airport we find, after we find him, he'll lead us to his house and then go to Georgia to visit a "friend" of his.

"Do you want to stop to get something to eat?" Colton's voice startles but soothes me at the same time.

"Only if you do." I stop at a red light and look at him. "There's an Arby's just up the road. We'll stop there."

"Sounds good." His eyes say there's more he wants to say, but won't.

I glance at the stop light. Still red. "Something bothering you?" I assume it's just him missing Maggie.

"I just. . . I think I need to apologize." He untangles his hands from his lap and reaches out to me. "Taylor, when I left I thought you'd be better off without me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

That's a cold lie. Does he not remember what he said to me? I cringe at the memory.

I look at the light, it's now green. I accelerate and start driving. "It's fine. . ." I mumble, even though I know it's not.

I glance at him and all I see are headlights. I. . . I think they're getting closer. And closer.

"Death." I hear my voice whisper as the car smashes into the passenger door. I feel the car roll. I try to look around me but a pain all over stops me. I think we're upside down.

I try to talk. I try to call Colton's name. But I can't get the words out. He got the worst of it. I know he did. What if he's hurt? I try to move. Nothing. My lack of mobility irritates me, so I strain my muscles to lift my right arm. It moves, but it hurts. Bad.

My left arm is the same. As I move to legs I realize that my right foot. . . It's searing. Burning. It hurts like hell and I let out a yelp.

A grunt comes in return.

Colton?!

I turn my head to the right and that takes all I have. I close my eyes but quickly regret it. I start seeing stars. Right before I pass out I see Colton's limp body sprawled across the dashboard.

He's not dead. I tell myself, He grunted at me. He's not dead. He's not dead. I repeat over and over in my head until I hear sirens.

My head is throbbing now. I feel like my temples are being hit with a sledge hammer over and over again. My hearing sounds off, and I just now take the time to lift my arm to my hear. It's wet. I look at my fingers. Wet with blood.

I fumble with the seat belt but its jammed.

"Can anyone hear me?" I hear a mans voice.

"Hello?" I yell. "My friend, I. . ." I don't know how to put it. So I think for a minute. "I can't tell if he's breathing." That's all it takes to make the tears start falling. I hear footsteps in between my sobs.