“Hurry, shut the trunk!” Sammy hollers from the front seat. The car is running, and the exhaust is hot on my leg. I shut it with one swift movement and bound to the passenger seat. My stomach is flipping over like I’m on one of those rides that shoots up and down, The Hollywood Tower of Terror, I think it is.
“Go!” I command, and with that, the tires squeal. This time of day, there's traffic everywhere. We just need to get two blocks for our swap. We will leave this car for the other and be on our way, undetected. We’ve been planning this for so long that it seems surreal that it’s finally happening.
“Holy shit!” Sammy says smiling ear to ear, her freckled cheeks, pink from the heat and the exertion. “We did it!”
“You might not want to say that too loud…” I say with a laugh, “Most criminals aren’t so excited to admit their crimes.”
“Touché” she says swallowing hard.
“Don’t feel bad about it.” I touch her cheek and she presses her face into my palm. “We’ll be in Mexico soon and you’ll never have to worry about him again.”
About the Creator
Heather Foster
For me, writing is just something I enjoy doing. I have written a novel and I am in the process of getting it published. Follow my on Instagram - @BottledFirefliesNovel
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More stories from Heather Foster and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Un-Matched
Reid was exceptionally handsome. Tall, dark, and mysterious with the body of a god. I recall the day we met with perfect clarity. I can see the look he gave me from across the terminal. Those dark magical eyes undressing me. I didn’t mind. I wanted it, after all, it’s what I was doing to him. When he finally touched me, I felt a spark of magic that coursed through my body like fatal venom. I was his prey, rendered helpless for his consumption.
By Heather Foster3 years ago in Fiction
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
I am thirsty for more. Great set up and sensory development.