A Fiction Piece: Midnight


"Three... Two... One"

Have you ever screamed? Screamed because you were done-- done with people, circumstances, and feelings. I'm driving on the empty highway and the windows are down, the sunroof is open, and the air rushes into the car making a noise of its own. The air funnels out of my chest, my lungs are shaking, and strands of my hair scream with me as they wave through the warm air raising up against gravity slapping my skin. I reach out my hand up to the open sunroof and memorize the curves of the wind.

I've gone crazy I think to myself. After I've let go whatever was left inside of me, I breathe heavy. In some sense, I feel as if I have tangibly let go of something. My eyes are wide and I grip the steering wheel focusing on the pain that I knew that I wanted to forget. I am ready for something new-- something and anything besides this. I take the exit off the freeway mindlessly driving to the house that I have been living in for years and I'm scared to walk in. I get there without realizing that I have parked my car and turned off the engine. I sit noticing the high contrast to the comfort of endless noise that filled my car only moments before, which is now replaced by a roaring silence. Before I even decide to open the door, I think about him and as if I were screaming as I did on the highway, no sound comes out, but every part of my insides shake and all I can do is cry.

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