Memory What: Memory Will characters be viewing the memory or experiencing it?: Experiencing it Warning, this memory contains: Nothing of consequence, some swears.
This was exactly why you didn't believe in God. Because if there really was a God, he was clearly a dick.
You'd been praying for weeks for the strength to leave, but this wasn't what you'd meant at all.
Yes, the wheels of your car were speeding down the highway and you weren't even looking in the rearview for a second to see what was behind you. The sound of 'Girl you'd best come back,' was resonating in your ears, but for whatever reason the pull to actually go back was getting weaker and weaker the more you heard it and the further away you got.
You'd only pulled over to cry. Your cheeks were stinging from the salty tears, and your hair was blowing around your face in wisps from your window being down, and you were chain smoking. Your chest was going to be burning by tomorrow.
This day. This day had finally come and you weren't supposed to drowning in sorrow. You weren't supposed to white knuckling the steering wheel out of panic and fear. You were supposed to be rejoicing. Dancing. Singing along with the songs on the radio. But you hadn't even turned it on. Not once. It was just you and the rhythm of rubber on road.
Your gut was in knots, and your throat had a permanent lump. Answered prayers, if that's what this was, were overrated. You're reminded of something your Mother said once. 'The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.' Well fuck that. This wasn't a fair trade. This was death. This was permanent. You don't even know if what you got in return is going to be permanent. What if what you get is death in the end? A life for a life right? What if its not freedom at all in the end? You're reminded of something Janis Joplin (definitely not your mom) said once, Freedom's just another word, for nothing left to lose...It was true in the end. You have nothing left to lose. You press the throttle just a little bit closer to the floor, the engine revs and you feel the car speed up.
Your heart is beating almost as fast as the thumping of the tires on the road, and you're driving fast. Your heart may explode at this rate. Wouldn't that be a trip?
You light another cigarette with the burning end of the one you're just finishing and plunk the shorter of the two into a soda can next to you and listen to the short sizzle as it goes out slightly, its still smoking so you shake it a bit, there's plenty of butts in there to keep it from getting wet right off the bat.
You've had a broken heart before. But this is a new level of pain. Of loneliness. A new sense of loss that you can't remember feeling before. You don't know what hurts the most, losing what you're leaving, or losing what you're going to. All you know is that they're both gone and you know now that praying for freedom was the wrong thing to do. Because God is cruel and freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.