Country imagines & preferences

I drive your truck - Lee Brice

This one is a little different from the other imagines. I just really love this beautiful song and wanted to write something about it. Hope y'all like it.

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"Eighty-nine cents in the ash tray

Half empty bottle of Gatorade rolling in the floorboard

That dirty Braves cap on the dash

Dog tags hanging from the rear view

Old Skoal can, and cowboy boots and a Go Army Shirt

Folded in the back

This thing burns gas like crazy, but that's alright

People got their ways of coping

Oh, and I've got mine"

Georgia was looking at the truck in the distance. There was a lump in her throat and tears were beginning to appear in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry. She had already cried too much ... So much that she feared that the tears inside her might dry up. He was no longer there to dry her tears.

"Baby, everything will be alright ...". Sometimes she could still hear his voice inside her mind.

But he was no longer there to tell her that.

Taking a deep breath she finally gained the courage to move. The old blue truck was standing by the house, as if still waiting for him to return home.

In her mind she could still see the man in uniform getting to the house. She knew something was wrong... Terrible wrong... So when they gave her a letter and the man said those useless words, she felt her all world disappear. In a matter of seconds, her world had been completely shattered in millions of pieces, just like her heart.

"I'm sorry. My condolences, ma'am." The man in uniform said.

Georgia just wanted to scream. As loud as she could. But as she opened her lips, no sound came out. Just tears rolling down her face as her chest felt tight. It was like her heart had stopped beating in that moment. She couldn't believe... He couldn't be gone... No... Her husband couldn't be dead.

"God...", that's the only word she could say in that moment when her legs started to tremble making her fall to the ground.

He couldn't be dead...

And in that moment, maybe a bullet right through her chest would hurt less than all the pain.

Now, opening the truck's door, Georgia could still imagine her husband inside that old car. His hands on the wheel and a smile on his sweet lips. He loved that old truck so much...

But now she was the one on the wheel, dreaming about driving to somewhere far away from that house she lived in. She wanted to get lost on a dirt road, nowhere to be found. She wanted to roll the windows down and feel the fresh air in her face.

God, she wanted to feel alive again... She was nothing but a mess ever since her man was gone.

Looking inside the truck, there was an old cap of her husband's favorite baseball team on the back seat. Some coins on the ash tray where he used to hide one or two cigarettes just for the stressful days.