Anon- to late

	For the second time in a few seconds, the little red needle bounces off the rev limiter. You slam on the brakes, and put the car in a tight right hand turn, leaving the parking lot, and let the little engine sing until 6500 and then give it third, out on the road. Right now, speed limits or general traffic rules bothers you very little 50 miles per hour 55-60 into fourth gear. You have to turn left in a large 4 way intersection, so you dab lightly on the brakes, and get back into third. The tires screech as they tell you how displeased they are with your driving. You manage to regain full control of the car, just as you are about to slam into an SUV, and you miss it with mere inches. Back up to the redline, and this time you actually nail the shift. Few blocks more, then right onto the highway, and just a couple of miles more

Ten minutes earlier, you sat in the office and doing your regular mundane stuff. Important papers, people calling, things to take care of. Not fun maybe, but it was okay. And it gave you money to feed your beloved old rifle. You were basically a couple now, as you helped her out of storage and misery, and she helped you out of a bad relationship. You never spoke during the day, but she rather waited at home for you. You didn't even bother locking her in nowadays. But today, she called you at work, with panic in her voice

>anon there is someone here, please get home, i think it's the girl you told me about she is screaming bad things, and that she wants to die and, and, and please come home now anon

You knew exactly what was happening. That was the girl you was helped you away from. You'd not seen her in a year, because she was crazy and wanted nothing to do with her. But you knew exactly what she was trying to do in your house
Back on the highway, the other cars just fly past you. You are firmly paced in the leftmost lane and scream past the other drivers. How fast was this. 100? you didn't dare look down. Your knuckles are white from the firm grip on your steering wheel and you are sweating, despite it only being April. After what seems to be an eternity, you find your off-ramp and dive into it with screaming tires. The road narrows, and you are stuck behind a big semi, and cant get past because of the incoming traffic. The desperation grips you tighter, and you start getting really scared. An opening in the road, and a gap a sober mind never would have attempted to overtake in presents itself. But the engine is in the torque band, and responds immediately and sends you past the big semi. The marginals were very bad, but you couldn't give less of a fuck right now. Back into your street, you hit the rev limiter one last time, before taking the car out of gear, and slamming the brakes. It stops somewhere your lawn, and you rush out of the vehicle without even turning off the engine. The window is broken, and there is some blood on it. You are so stressed that you fumble with the keys, and mess it up time after time. But you manage to calm yourself enough to get the door open at last.

"Sarah, are you here!?!"

no response B2

you rush to your room, this is where she would have hidd-

The door was forced open, anyone could see that

In the corner of you room, a your woman. ill fitting, worn and dirty clothes, and that one shirt you never took back from her. The wall behind her was painted red with what was the inside of her head five minutes ago. In her hands, is that beautiful red-brown wooded rifle that you have cared for so long, front end all drenched in blood. You pick it up, but it gets heavier in a second. She is crying. A lot. She tries to repeat sorry a hundred times. "i t-tried to jam b-but i couldn't. Are they going to take me away?"

You we're just a little too slow