street lights

they pass me by

author's note: hey, its zee! i hope you enjoy even though the updates will be slow. :)

The wind ruffles my hair, like the hand of my father as we ride through the still-busy streets of my hometown. It is beautiful if you do not look closer at the picture shown behind your eyes, the reds and yellows and greens of the street lights all blending into my mind as one. I don't slow down once, and I can hear the boy beside me, as crazy and wild as I, hooting from the passenger's seat.

He's on the drive of his life, and so am I. Nothing can stop us now, I think, as I drive faster and faster. The sirens from behind are the only thing that register in my mind, and the crackling voice coming from the megaphone startles my thoughts.

They hide again in the depths of my head, and I wonder when we will see each other again. The boy beside me is urging me to press on the gas, go faster, he says.

I release the pedal because as much as I want, I can not disobey my father, who keeps shouting into the megaphone, calling out to me. He groans and makes a clean escape, or as much as he can make of one with all the narcotics running through his veins, steps wonky and lethargic and downright amusing as the truck rolls to a stop.

I watch the cops catch up to him pretty fast despite his attempts of fleeing as I wait, still seated in the front seat of my dad's stolen vehicle and a duffle bag in the trunk.

When he sees it, he will know what my intentions were and will question himself once again. I will not help him with the answer and he will stay up many nights coming up with one that will help him get back the sleep he missed trying to come up with it.

I can only grin as Dan, the officer that usually accompanies my father in bringing me back, becomes visible in the side mirror. He sighs at the look on my face, gesturing for me to get out of the truck.

I do without question, snickering as he attaches the cuffs to my wrists. We've gone over this a million times and he still feels like he has the need to put the stupid things on me, even though he knows I won't run away.

I never do, as much as I want.

He leads me to the closest cop car, it's lights still on and blinding me as Dan gently shoves me into the back. My dad is still in the passenger seat after I make myself comfortable though he says nothing, much like the other times.

I know he's waiting for me to speak, like he always does, so I can explain myself, but I'm done explaining myself when no one is listening. I keep quiet, much like I've been doing for the past three years, I can't get myself to waste breath anymore.

It's not worth it.