Hit and Run

Chapter Three - The Crime

Chapter Three – The Crime

{Jillian Sparks}

Sunday, ah.

A day free from school, work, and stress. Every once in a while, I plan to go out and take a walk with my fuchsia pink bicycle. It’s actually a cruiser, the one with a curved top tube with a basket attached to its handlebars. It was a gift from my dad on my eighteenth birthday. Originally, he was planning to give me a car but I told him I didn’t want another one since he already gave me on my sweet sixteenth party.

It was a black convertible car, and was really cool. But ever since I received this awesome cruiser, I never used that automobile again. It stayed on my parents’ mansion’s garage. It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that things that are new to us are very appealing, right? That’s what this gas-free ride is to me. I only learned how to ride it three weeks after my birthday, which was six months ago.

I was now out of our building’s street, heading to the park, my favorite place to relax. It was a twenty-minute walk from my apartment. The morning was still early, probably around six or something. I intentionally went out this time of the day because I knew it would be peaceful. The highway was still empty. Pushing my bike from the sight, I crossed to the other side since the park was located on that part, but stopped in the middle of the road because I saw one of my shoes, untied. I thought about tying it later when I reached my destination for safety purposes. But then again, the road is still empty so why not do what you can now, right?

After laying my bike on the ground, I tied my shoe lace. When I was about to continue walking, I heard a scraping sound. A sound which caused my whole body to stiffen. A sound of a raging car. I turned my head to the right side to see that I wasn’t wrong. There, I saw a red Porsche accelerating eagerly towards me.

My mind was deliberating for me to run and save my guts but I can’t seem to find energy to move.

I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die.

There was nothing I could do but scream.

‘I don’t wanna die!’ My sub-conscious synchronized with my screaming.

Bracing myself to accept my fate, I closed my eyes. I can’t believe this would be my day. I haven’t even dated any one yet. And I can’t believe I didn’t choose a single suitor I had to be my boyfriend. It’s my fault for being picky over guys. I blame this to all the romance novels I’ve read. They were my reference of my dream guy. You know, the one wearing a business suit in a very appealing way with a well defined muscular body. Has a trait of chivalry combined with formality. That was always the picture of a man that I want to marry.

I was so stupid to think that I could find a real person who would look like the fictional character I’m fantasizing. And definitely, I’m so stupid to think about this kind of stuff when I’m so close to dying.

But wait. Why does my mind still work? Due to my estimated time, I’m supposed to be dead three seconds ago. Carefully opening my eyes, I hitched a breath to make sure that I wasn’t a ghost, floating.

“I’m alive?” I asked myself, looking at my feet still solidified on the spot. “I’m alive.” I confirmed.

The culprit was an inch away from my bicycle’s pedal. It made my legs go wobbly to think that I was really close to live in heaven, causing me to stumble down the ground. I was rapidly breathing, still in a state of shock.

I heard the car’s door opened then shut, probably someone got out of there. And when I glanced up to see who it was, everything went slow-mo.

My lips parted a little and my eyebrows rose with admiration. There, stood a guy wearing a business suit with a few buttons unbuttoned making me drool over a little sight of his sexy chest. On his right hand was denim colored tie with red and white stripes. Worry and panic were very evident on his features.