Never Ending Road
I never wanted to die. I never wanted to end my life. I just wanted to get as close as I could to death.
I am a coward.
Everyone in Pinewood, California knows the stories of the Never Ending Road. The road that travelers disappear down once the night sky blankets the earth. The road teenagers are dared to drive down in the middle of the night never to be seen again. The mysterious road that seems to swallow its passengers whole, wiping them from the face of the earth. So when I was ready to escape, when I was ready to leave I went for a drive.
Sitting in my 1994 chipped green Volvo with cracked windows, ripped up seat cushions, and an ear screeching shriek of a brake noise to match the ever going backfire of the engine, I made my way down a road I hoped to never return.
The suburban area that I had grown to love turned into a dirt path I was unfamiliar with, but I felt as if I had known it was always there. Frail looking bushes stood along the sides of the path barely cheering me to keep going. Their numbers slowly diminished as I kept on, but my speed increased drastically.
Sixty.
Seventy.
Nearing eighty miles per hour, my poor little car couldn’t handle such a speed without sounding like a Civil War reenactment battle. Nervously I tried to turn the radio on, missing the power button repeatedly because I did not want to take my eyes off the road. Eventually I turned on the radio only to be soothed by the static and white noise of being in the middle of nowhere.
As I crept up the road my heart began racing. My palms created enough sweat to make my steering wheel damp. I had no pattern in my breath: three deep breaths, two shallow hiccups, one huge sigh followed by not inhaling for as long as I possibly could.
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw the top of the hill in front of me. I had heard about the hill and what could be on the other side. There are so many different stories as to where it leads at night, the most common being death. My little sister used to tell me that there is a giant green monster at the end of the road that only comes out at night. It has three heads, lives underground, and only eats those who are out past their bed time.
With my constant thinking, the obnoxious static of the stereo, and the notorious Battle of Lexington all taking place in my car I was ready to get off this road. I looked at the landscape to the left of me only to see the edge of a cliff and complete darkness. Terrified I looked to my right to see an empty desert but towards the cliff I suddenly found myself on.
I pushed both feet down on the brake with all the power I could. My head hit the steering wheel hard enough to break through the cushion and I whipped back to my seat. My mess of a car made one last screech before it came to a full halt.
I sat there for what felt like an eternity and looked at the crooked road beside me. I could feel the sweat roll down my face, drip down my neck, and settle for a piece of my collar. I wiped the sweat from my eyes and looked at my now bloody hands.
“Oh,” I stared at my reflection in the rear view mirror. My forehead was split open and my face, with blood running down from all angles, looked like Humpty Dumpty after his great fall. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and started to feel the pain.
I’m alive.
I smiled.
I slowly turned the car around. Maybe I’ll go for a drive later.
