Crash

I was soaked when I entered back into my house. I took off my muddy shoes and threw them right by the door and entered into my living room to see no one there besides my mother, quietly sitting on the arm of a chair. She looked up at me as I entered and I took off my jacket and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Where’s Mr. Mustache?” I asked. I placed the jacket on the edge of our couch and walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

“I really don’t know who you are talking about,” My mother responded, her hands folded in her lap. I turned around and rested my hand on my hip.

“Are we really still playing that game?”

My mom stood up and walked over towards me, until she was inches away from my face.

“I love your father,” She began. “I do. And I would never do anything like what you’re insinuating. Maybe you’re just imagining things; you don’t seem completely stable mind-wise right now, so possibly…”

“Wow,” I said, stepping back in somewhat shock, “I know you’d stoop low, but I never thought you’d stoop this low as to try to brainwash your daughter into believing she didn’t see what she did to save your own ass.”

My mom just leaned against the counter.

“I’m not doing any such thing, I’m just saying. I would never do that to your father,” She remarked and then slowly walked towards me. “Tell me, Peyton, were you on any prescription narcotics the night you supposedly saw me with this man you speak of?”

I stepped forward, matching the equally narcissistic smirk my own mother had on her face.

“Oh I don’t know, how about you tell me, Mom, were you really at a book club reading a book that you probably have never even read in your whole life that night?” I replied. “You’re supposed to be a role model for me, so why am I the one right now telling you to grow up?”

My mother’s face fell as I just grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and made my way out of the kitchen, and for once, actually felt disappointed that I didn’t have a mother who cared enough about me to admit her wrongs or a mother who cared enough about me to actually ask why I felt the need to be on those prescription drugs that she spoke of.

And as I went to my room, and sat down on the chair at my desk, I began to think about all of the times she had sent me to a psychologist when she didn’t really feel like dealing with me, or the times when she looked at me and would tell me to my face that I’d never be normal or like others.

And in that moment, sitting down, alone in my room, I realized I have never really had a mother at all.

Way later that night, I tiptoed through the main hallway of my house and towards the front door. I slipped on a pair of boots that were lying right in front of it and slowly began opening it until I heard a cough behind me. I jumped and turned around to see my brother; his dark brown hair was sticking up in all directions.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Just going out,” I replied. He raised his eyebrows and leaned against the wall, still staring at me.

“I heard about what you did,” He stated. “A lot of people are talking about it. I’d advise you to stay in here and not really go out, especially not at this time of night.”

I stopped for a second and looked at him, a bit surprised.

“Are you actually concerned about my wellbeing right now?” I asked. Kingston ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it out a little bit before pushing himself off the wall and reaching in front of me to re-lock the door I had just unlocked.

“For once, yeah, so don’t do anything stupid,” He remarked and with that statement, walked back down the hallway and into his room. I stopped for a second and just stared at the hallway he had just passed through. And although I knew I should probably listen to the only advice my older brother has and probably ever will give me, I of course did not, because I’m stupid and I don’t ever listen, so I unlocked the front door again and quietly walked out of my house. It was sheer silence outside, and all that could be heard were the crickets singing their tunes and the rustling of the winds upon the trees. I saw Micah’s truck parked a bit ahead of my house, probably because he didn’t want to make too much noise parking right in front of it. I quickly looked around and darted towards it.

As I was walking fast across my lawn, I looked over and saw another car pull up. It was black and all that could be seen of it was its dimmed headlights, slowly making its way in my direction. I picked up speed and soon began to basically run towards Micah’s truck. The black car’s doors opened on both sides and two men got out and began quickly walking towards me. They looked exactly like Javier and they were definitely the men who were parked outside my school earlier today.

I yelled Micah’s name loudly as the men were almost to me, fear was actually pulsing through my veins as I saw both of them with their fists clenched, running full speed at me. The sound of our conjoining footsteps pounded against the ground. I saw Micah’s truck door open and saw him bolt out of it.

“Get the fuck away from her!” He yelled. He had a gun clenched in his hands, pointed at both of the men. The men both stopped dead in their tracks and put their hands up as I stood behind Micah, completely just in but yet out of it at the same time. Everything felt hazy and the adrenaline was beginning to take a toll on me. “Try to lay a hand on her one more time and I’ll kill you.” Micah said loudly. The men spoke quiet words to one another and one of them looked at me with sheer anger in his dark eyes, sending me shivers.

“We’ll be back,” He said to me angrily. “I promise you.” One of the men looked at me and spat on the ground before they both turned away and made their way back to their car and sped away.

I turned to Micah and grabbed him, pulling him close to me. He tightly held me back, placing one of his hands on the back of my head, stroking my hair for a second. He then slightly pulled away and motioned for me to get into his truck.

Once I got in, and he did the same, he started the ignition and began to drive down the dark windy roads of our town. Silence filled the truck until I finally turned to him.

“I didn’t know you owned a gun,” I said.

“I don’t,” Micah replied. I looked at him confusedly until he turned the light on and lifted the gun up. “It’s a pellet gun.”

I stifled a laugh and turned in my seat.

“And how the hell did you know that they weren’t going to have a real gun?” I asked.

“I didn’t,” He repeated and then turned to do his signature lopsided grin. “That was honestly just dumb luck.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my seat, trying to pretend that I was okay with everything that just happened now, which was completely false. The jitters of having two big men run after me were still jolting throughout my whole body, making it hard to sit still and hard not to just burst out in tears for some reason. I wanted a cigarette so bad to calm me down, but my pockets were empty and the jitters were there full speed. I hated what this whole situation was turning me into. I used to be a hard ass, now I’m scared about everything, which I never thought I’d be. I never thought I’d ever need a knight in shining armor to save me from getting jumped, ever. But, here he was, driving me to wherever he felt like in the middle of the night with a stupid pellet gun on his lap.

The truck began to shake as we pulled into a dirt driveway. Rocks were flying everywhere, making clinking noises against the side of his truck as we drove along, and finally we stopped in front of a small, older looking house. Micah turned off the truck and looked over at me.

“Is it foolish for me to hope that this will soon blow over?” I asked, feeling ridiculous. Micah shrugged, opened his car door and got out. I opened my door and did the same and began walking with him to the front door of what I assumed was his house.

He quietly stuck his key in the lock and opened the front door, letting us inside. He walked in front of me and turned on the kitchen light and I sat myself on top of his table, not really caring if it was rude or not.

Micah poured me a glass of water and gave it to me, and even though I wasn’t thirsty, I grabbed it and drank it anyways, then placed it back on the table.

“This may sound lame, but I don’t care,” Micah began to say as he walked over to me. He leaned in close to where I was, resting his hands on the table at each side of me. I looked straight into his brown eyes and then my eyes darted downward to his nose, which was actually slightly crooked, something I don’t think anyone would notice unless they were looking at him as close as I was. I then looked up at his eyebrows which hovered over his eyes a little bit, giving his already brown eyes a sense of brooding darkness in a way. I couldn’t stop memorizing his face until he finally spoke again. “Even if they chase after you for the rest of your life, I’ll be there with my pellet gun to try to save you. Even if people think it’s weird that I’ll follow you around all of the time, I won’t care. I won’t. Some people from my high school have seen me with you Peyton, and they ask me why, I know that sounds bad but it’s the truth, you scare people, you weird them out, but for some reason I can’t seem to stay away from you. I’ll never stay away from you, and each day I’ll wonder why; but soon enough I’ll stop wondering, and I’ll know. But for right now, I don’t care. I won’t care. Because all I care about right now is this girl right in front of me."

Micah then grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard, as if with urgency, and I kissed him back, trying my hardest to truly believe the words he had said. And as he pulled me up until I was standing, never taking his lips off my own, our bodies pressed against one another and I realized that he was the first person I have ever believed in, and I truly wanted nothing more than to keep it that way.