The Phantom of Scranton Hill

14

The day after school ended, Justine's mother had fully recovered and was allowed to return home. However, she was on strict resting orders.

That morning, an extremely exhausted Justine awoke to a phone call from the hospital permitting that she may come to retrieve her mother for she had rehabilitated from surgery.

Overexcited, Justine jumped out of her bed, threw on a pair of fresh clothes after smelling them to make sure they were clean, and raced down the hall to grab an apple before running into the garage. Justine approached the 2002 black Acura RL, pulling the driver's side front handle, prepared to hop in and drive--though, technically illegally--for the next seven hours straight.

"Ugh, it's locked," Justine whined, unhappy that she had to go back inside the house and dig for the car keys. Trudging back to the kitchen, Justine's glee was slowly slipping away, but she refused to let it go completely.

Come on. It's got to be in here somewhere, she thought as she rummaged through cabinets, finally successful after five long minutes. Gotcha!

About a month ago, Justine's mother was transferred to a hospital a little more south than Washington, D.C., and Justine hadn't been able to stop by as often. She cut back her visits to once every other week, knowing that her mother had been healing from the increase in prescribed medication. It was just a matter of time before Justine could officially bring her home, and she was more than enthusiastic.

~*~

Currently, Justine's mother was soundlessly resting vertically in the backseat of her grandmother's car, an occasional snore erupting from behind her. She had managed to successfully drive seven hours south and pick up the precious cargo from the hospital. All that was left was managing to drive back home. Same as getting here, right? Except this time, it's nighttime. And nighttime meant darkness.

There was no one to talk to, no radio to turn on, and Justine wasn't even driving legally. Imagine what would happen if she was pulled over for speaking on the phone while driving. She'd practiced around parking lots and such but didn't technically have her license yet. Keyword: yet.

Justine was bored out of her mind. She glared at the nothingness that shrouded the road before her, the only light being her own headlights. The darkness was compelling and she was becoming sleepier by the second.

Soon enough, Justine dazed out, completely blanking and staring into space from excessive drowsiness. Her eyelids began to close as they grew heavy and stung. Just as they were about to close, she heard a voice. A man's voice. A familiar man's voice, one that held great immaturity. And she would have nearly fallen asleep if it wasn't for the distant sound of a truck's horn to irritate her.

With her eyes still open slightly, Justine saw a pair of arms reach out and grab the wheel, but it was blurred and misty so she couldn't be sure. The hands were cold and created a short breeze, dropping the temperature of the heated car by at least fifty degrees. She shivered.

Seconds later, the horn blared again, louder this time. She opened her eyes quickly, hearing it dangerously close, and blinding white headlights nearly killed her vision. A wide semi-truck was just meters away from the hood of the car and closing quickly. Her heart began to race and she wished she had signed up for physics instead of chemistry at the beginning of the year. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Time seemed to slow as she glanced back at her mother. She wished she had more time. Why was time always the issue? she found herself wondering.

The horn alarmed her one last time, and she watched as it inched closer. She knew that she was going to die, but she wasn't ready. She didn't want to. And even though the situation seemed helpless, she wasn't planning to.