28 capítulos Concluída MaduroSometimes I wonder if I'm the only one that drives down the interstate and imagines what it would be like to steer just a little to the right and crash through the guardrails or drive off the side of a cliff, maybe hit a tree or two while going eighty miles per hour. Am I the only one that wants to know what it would be like to feel the sting of glass shattering from the windshield and cutting into your skin, blood trickling down your face and the copper taste hitting your lips. Would I scream? Would I try to escape and call for help or would I stay frozen in place?
I wonder if anyone would really even miss me, would the world be different in any way? My work would have to find someone to work the night shift, someone would have to clear out my apartment so that a new tenant can move in, my mom and dad would have to pretend to be torn apart over the lose of their eldest daughter.
I don't think much would change, I have no real significance in this world. I don't think any of my friends would be too terribly distraught over it, it's not as if there's anyone I talk to on a regular basis anyway.
I push down on the accelerator, watching as the speedometer hits one hundred and I check my mirrors for cops, smiling to myself when I see that I'm the only car on the road at this hour. I turn up my radio and drive the familiar roads way too fast, sometimes swerving between the lines, unable to hear anything but the music vibrating throughout the entire car.
