ISOLATION

6.

Not even sleep deprivation can hinder the following reckless actions. My hands shake uncontrollably and my headache induces nauseous, but adrenaline temporarily dismisses these symptoms. I keep my sight locked on her: the same woman who scared me in the middle of the woods yesterday. She is now standing in the middle of a large-scale car accident. This is beyond a freak occurrence. I am obliged not to hesitate when it comes to taking action. I yell at David to turn the car around. He just wavers utterly confused and still in a state of shock. The woman is far off in the distance now. Witnessing her out in public, I notice her hair is pulled away from her face making her easily identifiable. Unlike the first time I saw her, this time she is wearing a simple dress. It is a long light blue dress. It almost looks like the ones patience wear in hospitals. It only adds to my racing curiosity. The dress hangs loose adding to her already misshapen stature.

Traffic clears and our car finally starts picking up speed. It is not enough. I start losing sight of her entirely. "Turn around!" I yell. Our car approaches the next intersection. With no discretion for law enforcement, I clutch onto the steering wheel and take control from the passenger side. David's narrow eyes look at me as if I have completely lost my mind. But it's the exact opposite. I know precisely what I'm doing. I will perform tenaciously. I will approach this woman and proceed to ask her questions. Then maybe I can sleep again.

"Hold on-," I mumble, before yanking the steering wheel over. Our car swerves into the turning lane. David's hands leave the wheel. He raises his arms up and surrenders. "What are you doing?" He hollers, but he does nothing to stop me. Such a rush of determination one can almost mistaken it for madness. My body leans to the side and hovers over his. Remaining only attentive to where I'm going, I press heavy on the gas. Regardless of the red light, I whip us around and do a full U-turn. Our wheels skid, leaving behind tire tracks. Other drivers stop and honk their horns uncertain of where I'm going. David's body hunkers down. His hands clutch around his seat belt.

My only focus is the red and blue flashing lights just up ahead. They are not too far in the distance, but I tell David to speed up. With only the intention of keeping us safe: David shoves me back into my seat. His hand presses flat against my shoulder, but I fight him back. I shake him off and reclaim the steering wheel. "you have to go faster! She's up there!" I shout. David recoils, "Who? Who's she?"

"The lady from yesterday- will you just go faster! Please!" I lean forward, attempting to get a better view of the accident. David forcefully slams on the brakes. My torso flies forward causing my chest to hit the dashboard.

We come close to rear-ending the car in front of us. "Jesus!" David reaches for my shoulder again, but more delicately this time. "Are you okay?" He asks. We are stuck in traffic again. The woman lurks where I cannot see, but we are close enough to the accident now, I should be able to. Not even the sights of people yelling and running can distract me. This is no longer a scene of gruesome tragedy, this is where I will find answers. She is still here. I know she is. What if she is the cause of all of this? Why else would she be here? I know it was her. She is there and she is real. The rushing thoughts befuddle in my mind like hands smashing against a keyboard.

"This is really messed up summer-" I bare witness to the pain emitting from my lovers eyes as he restrains himself from looking at the accident. As much as I admire his empathy, this is not about him. This is not about anyone, but her. I proceed to exit the vehicle. He starts yelling at me. But since I start running, his voice transitions from mumbles to mayhem.

The chaos is inviting. Details of destruction are more prominent up close. I pass by the crashed tractor truck. The interior is just as beaten as the exterior, but there is nothing here related to her. A loud crunching noise follows my every footstep as I walk over the glass. I zigzag my way around the streaks of blood. I almost stop when I notice a body bag being lifted onto a gurney, but I cannot let myself be defiled by the emotional turmoil.