Rideshare [life]
Here I was, I had made it to Santa Monica, and eaten all from the fruit of the land. This was the scariest thing to me, I had no idea where I was and no where to lie my head down after a very physical day with inadequate clothing and here it was drizzling rain all over my chilly and wary self. It was then that the most illogical and outlandish thought occurred. I was psychotic and tired, afraid of catching my death in this rain, so I decided to try something my ill mindset for some reason welcomed.
I stood at an apartment building over the direction of Beverly Hills and looked over the row of windows. It was past late night hours, and all of the lights in all of the homesteads were completely dark. It was silent and empty in the parking lot and my mind just fell into tune with my needs. I saw an older red caravan parked there, hatch back beckoning. I went forward and tried the latch and the door clicked right open. I cautiously crawled into the dark and inviting clean trunk rug there to soak in the beads of water from the post primordial consequence whirling outside. I quickly curled up into the fetal position.
A few short hours later, I was awoke to the sound of the front driver’s side door opening. I was paralyzed with enough sense to my basic realization that I had yet to escape the real danger here. I peeked my head over the seats between me and the owner of the vehicle now immediately turning over the engine and without a second thought into reverse. The short stocky tan remnant man drove quickly back, and immediately glanced in the rearview mirror, causing me to duck so fast he might have even heard it. My heart punding, I realized I couldn’t even make a run for it now, without even a chance.
As I lay in wait of the man to arrive at his destination so that I could flee, my heart felt dismal and tortured by this unequivocally dangerous situation. This baby was a monster that could end the life I know with a turn of events so simply dead ahead, and my thin layer of perched on escape nerves lay frying in sweat soaked and sorrowful stress. The ride seemed to be encountering a lot of elevation change and my guts twisted more knowing he was driving to a rural area that may not give me way to hide once I had flown. I looked out the side window and saw a sign announcing our destination, the sign read “Malibu”.
An eternity of moments later, cheek kissing the shifty trunk carpet, the van stopped. I glanced over the seat after the driver’s door opened, seeing if the man was making toward the trunk. The man seemed to shrug off something to himself, and rounded the van to the sliding door next to my head on the passenger side. To my horror, he stuck his head in, inches from my head and gathered some things from the back seats. Then he ducked back out, and entered the grocery store I now saw in front of us. When he had entered the store, I leapt for the door and made my exit and headed down the narrow winding mountainside road.
Comments
Post a Comment