To Race The Sunrise

   “It’s almost time…”

            I said the words with a cold heart, one that could’ve been shattered during any other time, but was seemingly invincible. It was as if this hope was keeping a thin veil of steel stretched across the ice of my heart, making sure that it would not break. But every little detail that I could not ignore was attacking that thin veil, and it was only a matter of time before that veil would fracture and break.

            I just hoped I wasn’t alone in this trouble.

            Seemingly, I was not alone. This one woman, one whom I’ve grown close to, appears to share this same cold heart and veil of steel. She smiled the same way that I would; the smiles were to guard our true feelings. Some people say that everyone is like this, but her and I are more than just part of everyone; we think ourselves to be beyond that. But at this point of my writing, most of this should be in the past tense.

            We were sick of where we lived, so we planned to get away. I had to secure a carriage of steel and gasoline, and we both packed up enough clothes, money, food, and water to keep us driving on the tarmac that stretched across the continent. In the two weeks before we left, I told her to keep her bags hidden from her parents to avoid any suspicion. If her parents figured out that she was leaving with me, I would be barred from ever seeing her again…that was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. Our escape blueprints had to be kept secret.

            I remember the last day of the second week, mainly because the memory of it continues to replay itself inside of my head; like a film roll that got stuck on a select few scenes. That night, I kept my telephone by my side, remembering what time she was supposed to call. I drank coffee to keep myself awake as I awaited the sound of her voice.

            During that my wait, I did contemplate what I was doing. Surely, if her and I ran away from the town we hated, we would never be able to come back. If we did, I know her and I would never be allowed together again. Despite that factor, separation was not one of the most dangerous issues associated with the town.

            Before I could think anymore, she called.

            “It’s three o’clock…I’m ready.” She said.

            “All of your bags are ready?” I asked in reply.

            “Yeah, everything is in my room. I’m ready to go the moment you get here.”

            “Okay, I’ll be over there soon.”

            I returned the phone to its cradle and looked to the clock; three hours into the morning…three more until daybreak. We planned to be far away by then.

            I drove the automobile to her house and parked the vehicle in the driveway. Silently, she came out of her house and walked toward my vehicle. Two duffel bags were carried on her right shoulder, one other bag on her left, she carried her guitar in its case in one hand and a final make-up kit was carried in the other. Somehow, the sight of her like that awoke distant memories inside of me, ones that I can’t quite explain…ones that I can’t particularly remember the actions of. It was as if she was someone else for a moment…the sweet smell of a raspberry perfume filled my head as I heard the sound of horse feet on cobblestone and the feel of the cushions of a carriage. What was going on?

            She opened up the trunk of the vehicle to put her belongings inside. As she slammed the lid, the smell of the perfume from the memory faded and the smell of hers wafted in as she claimed her spot in the cage of steel.

            “So, you’re sure that you want to leave?” I asked her.

            “Of course I want to, why wouldn’t I?” She replied.

            “There are just some risks that go along with this…”

            “Like what?”

            “Well, people may try to look for us, so that’s one concern. But that isn’t my main concern, though. What my main concern is, is this one woman who said she would kill herself if I left here.”

            “She’s just obsessive.”

            “She follows through on what she says every single time; she wouldn’t be joking about this. She will really kill herself if we leave here.”

            “Why would she do that?”

            “She knows I’m leaving with you…”

            “Jealousy?”

            “Yeah…”

            “She’s going to kill herself over that?”

            “She wasn’t exactly stable when I was a good friend of hers…but the thing is, she’s going to call in to the police; well, she probably already did. She would’ve been frantic about ‘death’ and would’ve said that someone is going to kill her. A guard is probably already at her house, keeping anybody away. And by sunrise, she’ll be dead…”

            “So that why you want us far away from here by then?”

            “That’s exactly why…”

            “Then we don’t have any time to spare; put the car into drive and let’s get out of here.”

            So we drove.

           

            We didn’t get far before she fell asleep. I guess she didn’t have any reason to stay awake. She knew I would keep her safe. In the way that she thought of me, she was correct. I promised to be by her side no matter the circumstances; she did call me her Guardian, anyway.

            Someone once asked me about her and I simply said, “It doesn’t matter if we aren’t labeled a ‘couple’; all that matters is that I’m with her.” That summed up in the shortest way possible what she meant to me. The words to describe how much I cared for her did not exist.

            I eventually found an overlook at a state park. We would watch the sunrise from there. I shifted the vehicle’s transmission into park and I looked at her. Her hair of black seemed to be like silk. The paleness of her skin seemed to give off its own light when it would’ve otherwise had none. She was completely different from the rest of the world; she was someone unbelievably beautiful, even if she would not admit her own beauty. I found myself stroking her hair and wrapping my arm around her until she eventually awoke when the sun crested over the horizon. She looked to me and smiled, then looked to the sun.

            “What time is it?” She asked. I ignored her question to some extent and gave her the answer of what I wanted to have her know.

            “It’s almost time…”

Reviews

[Lilly Negoi]

this is quite well written! and i particularly enjoyed how the ending leaves the options open.

[♥Kaitlyn♥]

I love it!
it's very good!
well-written!
100/100

[MR_BERG]

I like this piece. There is a somber hopefulness to their journey.

I wonder if the suicidal woman could have been dealt with earlier. Did you mean jealousy rather than jealously?

[Joel M Frye]

Well-written tale, Luke. Some of the phraseology you use "carriage of steel and gasoline", for example, gives an alien sensibility to the characters. Leads to many possibilities for expansion if so desired.

[Fabric Pulse]

'It's almost time...' Sounds so spooky! Readers just want more. 'The sun crested the horizon...' So mysterious and gloomy but yet shining with an aura of positive glow.