#555
I packed my bags to run away from Di. While he lay sound asleep, I depleted my savings to book a one-way plane ticket to Colorado. Anger burned inside me for what he did. I slid out of bed. I quietly crept to our closet to grab a suitcase. A sudden sharp pain shot through my skull, making me stumble. I stepped back onto the stupid creaky floor panel Di never fixed. I stood frozen watching him toss and turn almost awakened by the sound. A feeling of great relief rippled through my body when he didn’t wake up. For a second, I saw everything — our first date, his promises, the bruises, the nights I cried myself to sleep.
Once everything was packed into the car, I hopped in ready to be on my way. I tried to start the car in fear of the loud engine sounds waking him up. My mind raced at high speed causing my heart to beat out of my chest. It wouldn’t start. I checked the fuel meter to discover that Di left the car completely empty. _Did he know? _I thought to myself.
I sat hopeless in the car for five minutes. I took a deep breathe thinking about my next moves. Then, to my worse nightmare, our bedroom light flicked on. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. My heart pounded, each beat slamming against my ribs, desperate t break free.
It began to down pour. Give me a break.
When I looked back at the window the light was off. The darkness in the window felt eerie. Di always had trouble sleeping. The thought of him just lying back down that easily sent chills through me. I used my rear and side view mirrors to scope the area.
I checked the left side view mirror one last time. Empty. Just the rain streaking down the glass, blurring everything. But then—. A shape. A shadow. No— him. Standing right behind car. Unmoving. Staring. _What’s he going to do? Why doesn’t he attack? Oh wait!
A flashback of Di and I’s first time at the gun shop. He was talking to me about staying safe and to always keep a self defense weapon in important areas.
I reached in the glove box. It was gone. Then, an overwhelming sensation filled my gut. I looked back at Di. He pulled the gun out from his back pocket. I knew I’d die right there.
I stepped out of the car with my hands up. I yelled out to Di “Why can’t you let me go?! This isn’t love” He remained quiet and stationed. He slowly raised the gun and shot. I ducked. My ears rang so loud and everything got blurred. I ended up back in the car. I turned the key for the heck of it. The car started. I sped off.
I ended up on an eerie bridge. There was a man in a suit standing in front of the car. When I got out, he gave me a grin. I couldn’t let this be another thing to stop me from making the flight. I asked the man to please move out of the way. He stood there with a stupid grin on his face. I got back in the car and inched forward hoping he’d get the message and let me go. I checked my rear view mirror anticipating Di’s appearance. Nothing. I heard whispers echo in the car. One of the voices said “Wake up.” The man walked up closer to the car. I stepped out of the car to get away from the voices, but they were louder.
The man reached in his pocket and pulled out a sealed scroll. He handed it to me. When I opened the scroll, I was in disbelief by what was on it. It read “Death Certificate for #555” I saw two dates— my birthdate and todays date. I asked the man what it meant. He leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. He said “I am the keeper of those who no longer live. I am the one who handles the numbers. I am the last stop.”
Suddenly, I felt an agonizing pain. My body went limp. I fell to the ground. Everything came flashing before my eyes leading up to me standing outside of the car facing Di with the gun pointed at me. Something felt off about it. I was so close.
“No, this can’t be right. I was just in the car. I was just—“ But the memories came flooding back. Di. The gun. The shot. My body crumpling before I ever made it to the car. I never made it to the car.
The man stood over me. He looked at his watch, then he bent down. He looked callously into my eyes. He revealed that I had been dead the entire time.