My Short Life

Chapter 4

I don't like the fact that he hasn't been to work, but there has to be a logical explanation. Is he sick? Did he go out of town and not tell me? I have a lot of questions that make my brain hurt just thinking about it.

There's a car coming and I put my thumb out like a hitchhiker. I've never hitchhiked before, so this will be interesting. I'm scared because bad things could happen to me.

I still do it because I like trying new things. People think I'm scared to do something that someone who's daring would do. I prove them wrong all the time.

The car was coming in fast and I thought they would stop but they didn't and a big gust of wind almost blew me to the ground. I was disappointed they didn't stop, but oh well.

I kept walking until I would see a town or something where I would see more people instead of just one here and there.

It's hot and dry like a desert. There is no breeze, and when there is one it's a hot breeze and it makes the dirt fly up and get in my eyes.

I hate walking and being foodless and waterless. I see another car coming so I stick my thumb out.

This time, they weren't coming in so fast and they did stop but not directly at the spot where I was, maybe 5 feet ahead of me.

He rolled the window down and said, "Need a ride?" in a tone I had heard before but can't remember right now.

I was too hungry, too tired and too thirsty to think about anything else.

"Sure. Thanks." I said, panting like a dog. I get in the car and the AC is blowing full blast and I thank him for that.

"No problem. I know it's hot out there. Do you need water or food?" It's like he is reading my mind. Who is he?

He pointed to a cooler that was in the backseat. I climb back there while he's driving and open it up and see nothing. Then, he shoved me in and locked it.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled from within the cooler.

"You don't remember me? I'm the guy from the gas station." He said. I knew I recognized his voice when he offered me a ride. It all makes sense now.

"What do you want from me?!" I was having a breakdown.

"I want you to lay in there and have a good time." He is severely messed up. Have a good time? How am I supposed to have a good time?

This cooler may be big enough for me, but that's only because I'm a small person. I don't like being in confined places. I get claustrophobic and have panic attacks and black out.

If the cooler was bigger, I might be ok. Since it is small, I don't like it at all and I'm surely not going to have a good time.

"How am I supposed to have a good time in this tiny thing?!" I couldn't stop yelling because I was mad and worried something bad might happen to me and I was about to cry.

"Just relax and everything will be fine." He tried to sound calm, but it didn't work. His voice doesn't calm me at all. It makes me nervous.

I don't like being nervous because of my panic attacks and blackouts. If I get nervous, you'll know because I will start asking random questions and I will start having panic attacks.

"I can't relax in this tiny thing!" I screamed at him.

"If you don't stop yelling, I'm going to put a rag in your mouth and tie your hands behind your back." He threatened.

I shut up after that because I like being able to move my body. If he took my ability move my arms, I'm screwed.

"That's what I thought." He said.