The sun had set on the most grievous of days, and the night brought with it a fell wind that tore through her soul... This night was the first of many torments, ones of which would not allow this victim any escape from the loneliness she had been cast to.
The ache in her heart paired unsettling well with the ache in her mind. Of what she had allowed to happen. A light rain began to fall as she began that drive. The wind tore through the open windows, howling an unspoken lament as it followed her down the road. Black as night, cold as ice, heat rose to her cheeks as the droplets obscured her vision. The light cast long rays upon the black of the asphalt, and with it long shadows.
45... 50... 65... 80...
83 miles per hour. She'd never driven this fast in a 45 before. She glanced in the rear view... He had turned off quite a few miles ago. She kept running.
What was she running from? She can't outrun what she did, the ache was there to remind her. He had turned off miles ago. She wasn't running from him. Late coming home? By a half hour or so, but that wasn't what kept her foot on the gas pedal.
The guilt and numbness intermingled as it threatened to strangle her. She wasn't happy. She wasn't healed. There was nothing. No one could save her from her own demons as they danced around her head like madness. She had told no one. She had said nothing. She consented. It was her fault. Silent tears fell mixed with the light rain rushing into the car.
All her fault. She had to live with this now. The pain, the control exerted... what was she to do? Nothing. There was nothing.
The clock struck twelve as she pulled into the driveway. She couldn't let them see what this trip had made her. All she could do was compose herself as much as she could and unlock the door.
Safe in the walls of her own room did she finally collapse. Who was she? She had no idea anymore. The pain of the last two weeks erupted, has poured on the fire. She collapsed there.
So this was it. Rock bottom. This is how it felt. Maybe it would bury her with it. She hoped it would. Anything to make it stop.
And that night, as custom, sleep did not take her. She lay awake, thinking about the horrible things she allowed to happen. Another ghost to haunt her. Another night to repress. Another fault to account for. Another night without rest.
