All Good Things Must Come to an End

One hundred and thirty miles per hour. Just me, my fiancee, my Model J, and highway for miles. Pure serenity. The gas light blinking in my dashboard is the only deterrent from cruising at full speed. On my left is a haze of greenery. On my right is my beautiful fiancee; the way the sun hits her jade green eyes brings back sweet childhood memories of soccer fields and freshwater. Her long blonde hair flutters in the wind leaving a light flowery scent behind. There isn’t a place or a person I want to be with more. Other than the bloody hotel room--if only it wasn’t so far away. We’ve been eagerly awaiting a vacation like this; even if it’s only for a weekend. Bright hot sun and sandy beaches. I love places like Florida. Everyone always seems to be having fun no matter where you go. At the moment, though, I’m just glad to be on the road. I look over to my future bride with wonder. Everytime I see her face it reminds me of the first time I saw her. So full of life and wonder. Always able to disable a situation with her jokes. She knows what’s up and always has. This time, I gave her a hopeful smile. One that says, I love you and I’m glad you’re next to me. We have that kind of connection. I can just look at her and know what she’s thinking or what she’s about to say. She knows I’m at peace--which is why she fights through all the dramamine. She’s well equipped nonetheless. With her water bottle and paper bag at the ready, she’s a true car-sick trooper.

We only have another four hours on the road but the tank is looking empty so I pull over to make a stop for gas. She’s out immediately, booking it to the bathroom as if the car-sickness is chasing her out. But I do have to say, I love to watch her run. Not for any creepy reason or anything, just because I love watching her hair in the wind. The way it bounces without bounds--and the wonderful smell it leaves behind is intoxicating. She also has this funny run where it looks like she’s about to kick her own butt--I find that pretty amusing. Watching her run into that gas station filled me with ‘butterflies’. You know. The cheesy kind that makes you feel like life is a rom-com.

While I fill my gas tank, my brain tunes to the static channel. I notice the tank is full because my foot is soaked in gas. I pay a good fifty cents over the cost of a full tank because of that mishap. I go inside to buy a pack of smokes to calm my nerves. Marb Reds. The best kind. I almost forgot, a pack of Camel matches. I make my way around to the back where the washrooms are and have a quick smoke while I wait for her. After five minutes or so, her big beautiful green eyes poke out from a crack in the door. I extend my elbow in a triangular shape and she links her arm with mine. We skip back to the car like a couple of kids on their way to a candy store. Things are good. Hell, they’re even great! The only downside to living in America these days is Hoover’s presidency, if you ask me.

I put my key into the ignition and the car starts with a dull hum. Within five minutes of being on the road, I light another cigarette to ease my nerves. We’re going so fast at this point I can barely keep my focus on the road. All I can think about is how much fun this is.

We surf a bend in the road and there’s another car. It’s been flipped on its side through the middle of the lane. I slam on the brakes but not fast enough. I have to hit the hand brake or we’re screwed. With all my might I pull up the hand brake but we’re a speeding ball of metal flying down the highway at a hundred and thirty miles an hour. I yank the steering wheel to the left as to avoid impact.

Everything went slow motion. It started with her face smashing into the passenger side window. Then, we both hit the roof, she reaches for my hand as we tumble around like clothes in the dryer. It’s hard to tell which direction we’re facing--especially after the third or fourth turn. We shake around like maracas on margarita night. I watch her blonde hair turn red as we continually gyrate in the car. Just when I think we’re okay--well as okay as it gets for being upside down on a highway; the gas that had spilled to my foot is aggressively crawling up my leg in the form of flames. It was like needles were being forced into each individual pore on my leg. I can’t move. I’m stuck between the seat and the pedals. I look to my right one last time to see nobody there. This can’t be right. I slap my face to snap out of it but there is still nobody there. How could that be possible? I begin screaming for help and to my surprise, sirens arrive. I don’t have long, the fire has made its way up my leg to my stomach. I’m being cooked alive and it’s only a matter of time before I overcook. I looked up to God and began to pray. I’m an atheist, but there’s nothing to lose by praying. I open my eyes as the fire licks my heart and I see her smiling at me. She looks so peaceful. I call out her name to wake her up but there’s still no response. I want to comfort her, even if she’s unconscious I know she can feel me. We just have that sort of bond. I reach out to caress her cheek. At my touch her eyes force open. I extend my hand, inching towards her head to grab her face to kiss her, when her head rolls toward me.