Shades Of Grey
Shades Of Grey
That road was never safe, even in good weather. Its turns were windy and sharp, cars never paid attention to the cautionary yellow lines that guided their path around its tricky shape. And that night was no different when the three girls took the old but still kicking Cheverolet around its dangerous trail.
The three had just come back from a night of teenage celebration, and none of them should have been driving, let alone on that road. The music numbed any awareness of reality ready to swallow them whole. One girl was asleep in the back seat, passed out from whatever alcohol she consumed to bring in the new summer months.
The rain seemed to anticipate their presence on the road, and it breathed heavy upon the car. The drops relentless in their brigade sounded like bullets against the rusted metal. The windshield had no relief from its wipers that gave a futile effort to clear a view ahead. And as it seemed it couldn't get any worse, the lightning snapped the two girls in the front seat to reality. Like a drill sargent demanding your attention, the lightning gave the quickest buzz kill.
By now the car had managed under hindered control to lose its way on the road, while the driver of the car hurriedly tried to bring it back between the lines it had let loose from. Time seemed to speed up like someone had spun the second hand in a game of twister. It wasn't like the movies where your life passes before you. The storm gave split second flashes mixed with the frightened screams belting from drunken vocal chords. It created the horrific beginning to the chorus which would lie ahead...
Some say that you hallucinate before you die, in some form of euphoric state of what has been dubbed "out of body" experiences. The last thing the driver and her passenger seat companion saw was a man in the middle of the road. His features were not discerned, and his presence locked in their minds... he was not there by accident. He stood as if ready to take the impact of the car's force.
The car pushed through him as if he didn't exist. The sheer manipulation of reality warping into the minds of the passengers could have given them a painless death by disbelief alone. For as he melded through the hard metal it overloaded their synapses trying desperately to rationalize what their eyes were witnessing. And thus began the melody of twisted metal crushing and bending to the will of the elements into a piercing symphony.
The last flash of lightening flickered, and he stood spent... carrying a limp body in his arms like a babe being put to bed. The car was off in a short distance crumpled like a piece of paper no longer needed.
Before there were sirens, flashes of red and blue, and the sound of the fuzz intermittenly between codes given over walkie talkies... there was silence. The rain seemed to give way and quiet itself to a slow hum, and all that remained, was what reality didn't salvage.
_______________________________________________________________________________
His bow-tie was crooked as he tried to adjust it in a fidgeted gesture. Everything else was impeccable in straightened lines of contrast between black and white, down to the top hat adorned in that aristocrat style long ago. The seat beneath him creaked in a grainy whine of wood that had not been retired.
His elbow uncomfortably rested on the dresser beside him. The victorian suit gave no comfort in its restrictive dress, wearing his patience thin. Like a child anxious to wake their parents on Christmas morning, the minutes made him more miserable yet statuesque in his stance to remain in control of his irritance.
His blue eyes were paled by the only light in the room coming in gray shades from the window to his left that shone on him in diluted rays. Slowly they had shifted onto the room around him, taking in his surroundings again, studying them as if he would be quizzed later on each article that took residence there.
Across from him was the bed, and it was where his eyes kept falling on. The occupant of it moreso than the actual structure itself seemed to be the target of his gaze. She was lost under the sea of covers that swam over her in a cotton and satin wave.
He pulled out his pocket watch as if time had mattered to him, here. Once given a glance it was slipped back inside the confines of the suit. Finally he rose from the plain wooden chair as it gave its final rebuttal against his form. His path was directed for the bed with unhesitated footsteps that fell silent in his wake.
The bed, unlike the chair, had no resistance to his presence as he sat down upon it. The covers cushioned his seat upon them as he turned slightly to face the sleeping occupant underneath them. And as he watched her from his view, the irritance had washed from his face, and time again... had no meaning.
Her sleep was peaceful, she barely gave a stir. She had been sleeping for longer than she realized, and reality continued on without her. Her form curled to the warmth the bed and covers offered. Relaxed in her position, it was hard to tell if she would ever wake from where her dreams brought her to.
He hadn't the heart to take her from them, yet as he watched her... he knew he would be the one that did. His hand reached out to delicately brush away a coffee brown strand from her cheek. The movement still had no effect on the serene state she was in, but it pleased him.
To Be Continued...
That road was never safe, even in good weather. Its turns were windy and sharp, cars never paid attention to the cautionary yellow lines that guided their path around its tricky shape. And that night was no different when the three girls took the old but still kicking Cheverolet around its dangerous trail.
The three had just come back from a night of teenage celebration, and none of them should have been driving, let alone on that road. The music numbed any awareness of reality ready to swallow them whole. One girl was asleep in the back seat, passed out from whatever alcohol she consumed to bring in the new summer months.
The rain seemed to anticipate their presence on the road, and it breathed heavy upon the car. The drops relentless in their brigade sounded like bullets against the rusted metal. The windshield had no relief from its wipers that gave a futile effort to clear a view ahead. And as it seemed it couldn't get any worse, the lightning snapped the two girls in the front seat to reality. Like a drill sargent demanding your attention, the lightning gave the quickest buzz kill.
By now the car had managed under hindered control to lose its way on the road, while the driver of the car hurriedly tried to bring it back between the lines it had let loose from. Time seemed to speed up like someone had spun the second hand in a game of twister. It wasn't like the movies where your life passes before you. The storm gave split second flashes mixed with the frightened screams belting from drunken vocal chords. It created the horrific beginning to the chorus which would lie ahead...
Some say that you hallucinate before you die, in some form of euphoric state of what has been dubbed "out of body" experiences. The last thing the driver and her passenger seat companion saw was a man in the middle of the road. His features were not discerned, and his presence locked in their minds... he was not there by accident. He stood as if ready to take the impact of the car's force.
The car pushed through him as if he didn't exist. The sheer manipulation of reality warping into the minds of the passengers could have given them a painless death by disbelief alone. For as he melded through the hard metal it overloaded their synapses trying desperately to rationalize what their eyes were witnessing. And thus began the melody of twisted metal crushing and bending to the will of the elements into a piercing symphony.
The last flash of lightening flickered, and he stood spent... carrying a limp body in his arms like a babe being put to bed. The car was off in a short distance crumpled like a piece of paper no longer needed.
Before there were sirens, flashes of red and blue, and the sound of the fuzz intermittenly between codes given over walkie talkies... there was silence. The rain seemed to give way and quiet itself to a slow hum, and all that remained, was what reality didn't salvage.
_______________________________________________________________________________
His bow-tie was crooked as he tried to adjust it in a fidgeted gesture. Everything else was impeccable in straightened lines of contrast between black and white, down to the top hat adorned in that aristocrat style long ago. The seat beneath him creaked in a grainy whine of wood that had not been retired.
His elbow uncomfortably rested on the dresser beside him. The victorian suit gave no comfort in its restrictive dress, wearing his patience thin. Like a child anxious to wake their parents on Christmas morning, the minutes made him more miserable yet statuesque in his stance to remain in control of his irritance.
His blue eyes were paled by the only light in the room coming in gray shades from the window to his left that shone on him in diluted rays. Slowly they had shifted onto the room around him, taking in his surroundings again, studying them as if he would be quizzed later on each article that took residence there.
Across from him was the bed, and it was where his eyes kept falling on. The occupant of it moreso than the actual structure itself seemed to be the target of his gaze. She was lost under the sea of covers that swam over her in a cotton and satin wave.
He pulled out his pocket watch as if time had mattered to him, here. Once given a glance it was slipped back inside the confines of the suit. Finally he rose from the plain wooden chair as it gave its final rebuttal against his form. His path was directed for the bed with unhesitated footsteps that fell silent in his wake.
The bed, unlike the chair, had no resistance to his presence as he sat down upon it. The covers cushioned his seat upon them as he turned slightly to face the sleeping occupant underneath them. And as he watched her from his view, the irritance had washed from his face, and time again... had no meaning.
Her sleep was peaceful, she barely gave a stir. She had been sleeping for longer than she realized, and reality continued on without her. Her form curled to the warmth the bed and covers offered. Relaxed in her position, it was hard to tell if she would ever wake from where her dreams brought her to.
He hadn't the heart to take her from them, yet as he watched her... he knew he would be the one that did. His hand reached out to delicately brush away a coffee brown strand from her cheek. The movement still had no effect on the serene state she was in, but it pleased him.
To Be Continued...