Car Radio

I've been driving for what feels like months. I've been driving myself insane for what feels like years. I've been driving with no purpose for what feels like a life time.

As I drive with no set destination, I ponder over what brings me here. The events that have led me to this certain point in my existence. What drove me to leave my house? Why am I driving in the middle of the night? Why at fifty miles per hour? Where do I plan on going? All of this hasn't been thought out that well, but that's what happens when you're desperate to just get out. Feeling trapped in your own house messes with your head. Surprising, seeing as I didn't think that my head could be messed with any further.

It's past three in the morning and the road ahead of me is empty of cars. It's past three in the morning and the sky is empty of stars. It's past three in the morning and the car is empty of sound.

The car radio stopped working a few months ago. Both Alex and I have complained and discussed replacing it, but obviously the same shitty radio is still here. No radio means no music. No music leaves me with the light hum of the car engine and nothing else. I am completely alone. Myself and my thoughts: a combination which should not be left unattended.

How strange that people associate noise with violence. Gun shots, screaming, glass shattering, profanities shouted at the tops of lungs, and just any loud and unexpected noise. Hear a crash in your house? You worry that someone has broken in. Hear a car skidding away in the night? You worry that someone is trying to make a swift exit from the scene of a crime. Hear shouting next door? You worry that a physical fight is going to break out. Loud noises make you jump. Any time there's a loud noise Alex will run to me or hold me closer. It's like he's seeking protection or wants to protect me. Loud noises do that to people.

No one expects quiet to be violent. It isn't always violent, but it has the potential. Like right now. The radio is no longer there to provide a distraction for me. My thoughts are screaming to be heard. Everything negative in my head is clawing at the inside of my skull, trying to make cracks so they can seep out and fill up the car. There is already no escape from them, but it's like they want to suffocate me. Fill my lungs and make it feel as if I'm inhaling fire and toxic smoke.

Which begs the question: why didn't I listen to music at home?

I didn't want to wake Alex up.

Which begs the question: why didn't I sit in the living room and use headphones?

I needed fresh air.

Which begs the question: why am I driving in a car without a working stereo?

I needed to get away.

Why?

My sleep is plagued with terrible dreams. Horrible situations are conjured by my unconscious. Immoral actions are carried out by none other than myself in these dreams. When asleep, you don't know any better. You don't realise you are dreaming. You are left horrified. Each night for the past four months, I have woken from these nightmares with a cold sweat and a racing heart.

So called 'experts' tell you that your dreams are trying to convey a message or tell you something about yourself. It's alright for some who actively seek the answers to everything. Those who want to know why they were falling in their dream. Those who question why their teeth were falling out in their dream. Those who are incredibly curious as to why they were naked in their dream.

I don't dare ask what the bullshit explanation is for dreams where you kill someone.

My dreams consist of me murdering someone. I would never hurt a fly, but the fact I am killing people in my dreams greatly disturbs me. And they're so disgustingly vivid. A lot of the time I forget that I'm dreaming. It's never a familiar location and it's never a familiar person. Thinking about it, I never saw their faces. It's always a knife, and that knife always has blood on it yet it never touches my skin. Blood is never on my hands. At the end my heart always races with panic, my mouth opens in confusion, and my eyes water with regret.

During high school, I remember hearing that dreams with murder or killing indicate that you're on the verge of losing your temper and self-control. It may also indicate that you have some repressed aggression or rage at yourself or at someone. As my life continues to spiral out of control and I continue to feel more and more helpless, the idea that this could happen makes me sick to my stomach. I would never hurt anyone (intentionally).

Up until tonight I have never been driven away from my house because of these dreams. So why is it that I'm driving late at night as a reaction to my dream?

Tonight was different, but still horrifyingly vivid. It was a familiar location and a familiar person. I saw their face with their pale complexion, their dead eyes, and their look of absolute terror. There was blood everywhere: on the walls, all over the knife, pooling on the floor. The knife was larger and even sharper, the reflection of my blood spattered face looking back at me in horror. There was blood all over my hands.

I was sobbing on my bedroom floor as I cradled Alex's dead body.

Every fine detail of that dream is etched into my memory like a marking made on a tree by two lovers. I needed to get out. I was worried for Alex's sake. I would never dream of harming a hair on his head, but the dream had me spooked. And what if I did hurt him? What if my dream was some sign of a future event? Afraid of what it all meant, I ran from the house and jumped into the car.

Which leads me to blindly driving along now. I hoped this would take my mind off of everything. It hasn't. I hate this car and the silence it makes me endure. It makes my skin crawl as if a thousand tiny insects are navigating their way across muscles and veins. I want to scratch at my skin, cut it open to release these insects of anxiety and fear of the unknown. There is no sound to distract me from my dreams and my reality. It's reminding me of the hand of cards I have been given in life. It reminds me of who I killed in my dream, it reminds me about the friends I have lost, it reminds me about my crappy job and the boss that pays us all too little. It reminds me about how I was as a teenager and how I haven't really changed. The anxiety, the feeling of being alone, the stress, the insecurity, and the sadness that always linger.

Someone suggested that I may be depressed, but I can't be. How can I when my life isn't so bad? I have a loving family, a roof over my head, food on the table, an education, and someone who loves me just as much as I love them. How can I be depressed when I have all of that?

The silence pulls me back to the dream. As much as I wish to forget it, it refuses to leave. The car radio can't provide me with any distractions, and my phone is on five percent battery so I can't play music on that. Right now I have no other option but to remember every gory detail of the dream. It gets me thinking not just about how anyone can become a monster, but how fragile life is. How a single decision can change so many things. At any given moment, one decision regardless of how small it is could change everything. Not just your life, but also those who know you.

When I was eight I could have ignored the new kid at school. When I was sixteen I could have been successful in my suicide attempt. When I was eighteen I could have gone to college. Last year I could have moved away to another state. Two months ago I could have bought a new car radio.

Right now I could pull the steering wheel.

It would be so simple. Just a slight turn of the steering wheel and I could fly off the road and into a ditch. Strange how easy it is to do such a thing that could put you in a life or death situation. I could change everything. At this moment in time, one small decision could result in a colossal change. A sudden twist of the wheel to one side could mean the death of me...

I should really buy a new car radio. These thoughts aren't new. They plague my mind and always lurk there. They invade my dreams and cloud my thoughts. Sitting in silence gives them a chance to crawl from the murky depths of my mind and strangle every positive thought there is just so I can focus on them. It's just me and the little monsters.

Those monsters scare me. They want to take control. They're like a parasite. It's a constant battle and at no point have I ever been even close to winning. We're all battling fear, and it's no secret. A fear of spiders, a fear of the dark, a fear of heights; everyone has their own fear to fight against. I fear that my monsters will take control.

I could tell Alex. I could tear my soul from my body, lay it on the table, and show him everything. The dark thoughts. The dreams. The fear of losing control. The way my skin smothers me. The way silence highlights my fears. The sleepless nights. The heaviness I feel in my chest. The feeling of being suffocated. The fear of falling apart. The panic. The stress. The confusion. The fear. The monsters. The fear. The lingering fear. The blood. My hands, they're covered in blood. I could lose control. The fear. I'm so scared. Fear. Fear. Fear. The knife. Fear. No, Alex, no. Fear. Fear. Fear. Blood. Fear. Fear. Fe-

We need to buy a new car radio.

I should really bug Alex about that.

It's getting late. Better start heading home now. Hopefully I can get in a few more hours sleep. I might sleep on the couch so I don't wake up Alex. Do we have any blankets in the living room? I could just stay awake, maybe watch a film really quietly. I really fancy some ice cream right now. Best head to the twenty-four hour store to grab some, maybe some candy for Alex. I could get pancake ingredients and try to make them for him when he wakes up, he can have breakfast in bed. That's a good idea.

Turning the car around, I start the journey to the store. As I drive I try to ignore the monsters, singing a song under my breath as I drive. The road ahead of me is clear. I spot the headlights of a car in the distance on the other side of the road. I wonder why they're driving at this time...

I blink and I see it. Standing in the headlights is me. But it isn't me though. Tears stain their cheeks as their watery eyes focus on mine. In their hand is a knife. They are covered in blood. So much blood. Then I realise. It's a monster. It's a murderer. It's the me who killed Alex.

The monster screams in anguish and I swerve to avoid it.

One decision.

One pull of the steering wall.

It all happens in a blur. The car tumbles off of the road and starts to spin. Then it all goes black for a moment. My eyes refuse to focus as I struggle to look around. My heart is pounding in my ears. I feel so incredibly numb. Something warm is streaming down my face. I can't piece anything together. What's happening?

I am no longer sitting in silence.

There are sirens in the distance. Did someone commit a crime? Is there a fire? Has someone been in an accident? Why anyone is out committing crimes/making fires/getting in accidents at this time of night is beyond me. My phone is ringing somewhere near by. It's Alex; I can tell from the ringtone he set himself. Why is he up at this time? Someone is shouting and getting closer. Why are they shouting? And why are they getting closer to me?

The car radio is working.