Beautiful Burn || Chris Cornell

1

Mojave Desert, May 31 1991

The desert sun burns a beautiful shade of red as it begins to set just over the hills. I shift into gear, my black '69 Dodge Charger roaring beneath me with the wind blowing through my dark curls. I've been driving for hours though it feels more like days and I desperately need a drink of some sort. You can only drive so far and so fast before everything merges into one and you can't seem to separate the sky from the road.

The desert highway is a place I can escape, even if I have no idea where I'm going, it's comforting in the fact that it allows me to feel so free. Let's face it, I'm a fuck up. No matter how hard I try, everything just seems to crumble to pieces if I have anything to do with it. I just need space. Time to think. A place to clear my head. So with a duffel bag packed with as much clothes as I could fit with my most cherished possessions, I did the only thing I know how to do.

Run.

Run as far away as my car will take me.

Reaching in the glove compartment I take out my aviator shades, flicking the last of my cigarette out the window and decide it's time for some music. I slide some Pantera - Cowboys From Hell in the cassette deck of the car listening to Dime's guitar rip through my ears.

As the incredible thirst for a drink takes over, I find a little one horse town just off the beaten path and pull up to an old dive bar. The only other vehicle in the lot was an old beat up pick up truck and I decided to park next to it.

I open the car door and swing my legs out, feeling the rough gravel from beneath my Doc's. I could still feel the residual desert heat from the day as the sun now casts a pinkish-purple hue across the sky.

I rise from the drivers seat, adjusting my ripped, distressed light wash mini denim skirt and my low cut Type O Negative band shirt that I had made into a little muscle tank top, showing off my cleavage in the best way possible. Flipping my curls out of my face, I grab my bag to freshen up a little bit and close the car door to make my way inside the bar.

I step inside and notice that the bar is actually bigger than it appears on the outside. The only one inside was the bartender who was wiping down the bar who looks up immediately at me as the door closes.

"Hey, uh... restroom?" I ask.

He sticks a toothpick between his lips, flicking the bar towel on his shoulder and points to the ladies room at the far left corner.

"Thanks," I smile shyly and he gives me a nod as I make my way through the bar tables and chairs to the ladies room. I eased myself into the tiny bathroom, setting my bag up on the counter.

"At least it's clean in here," I say to myself as I take my sunglasses off and glance at myself in the mirror. I didn't look as bad as I thought but I still needed a bit of a touch up, I examine the small cut just above my eyebrow, thankful that there's no bruise appearing under my eye. That's the thing about my life though, see a train wreck become that train wreck.

I grab a bit of toilet paper from the dispenser, wetting it under the tap and dab a little bit of the dried blood from the cut. It must've started bleeding again when I put my sunglasses on.

"Fuck," I sigh to myself trying to keep it together. I've come this far I don't need to break down now. I finish cleaning myself up a little feeling a bit fresher than before and 15 minutes later I was good to go. I slip my sunglasses back on, pack up my back, make sure my curls were alright as they fell down around my shoulders and I head out of the ladies room.

I quickly ran back out to my car, throwing my bag in the backseat and made my way back inside to sit up at the bar.

"So... What can I get for a pretty young thing like you?" The bartender smirks as he plays with the toothpick between his lips.