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- *Bvrrrt…bvrrrt…bvrrrt…bvrrrt…*
- >”Hey…it’s me again…just hoping you’ll pick up your phone…and call me back…and I hope we can talk this through…”
- >…
- ---
- >Eight hours later.
- >You bring the bottle to your lips.
- >It’s empty.
- >You are currently lying face down, drunk, on a cold sidewalk.
- >You roll over as the bottle slips out of your hand.
- >Bringing the hand to your face, your vision blurs.
- >You cough as you roll over again.
- >This time your body slides down into the gutter.
- >At least it isn’t wet.
- >You can’t bring yourself to stand.
- >An overwhelming desire to sleep hits you.
- >You fall asleep in a street gutter.
- >You are Anonymous.
- >This is your life now.
- >It beats being dead…
- >Maybe…
- >The scariest thing to you is that you aren’t quite sure if it does.
- Bleeding Out
- >Six hours later.
- >You feel the heat of the sun beating down on the back of your neck.
- >You try to pull yourself up, but you’re greeted with an intense pain in the back of your eyes.
- >You fall back down and bump your forehead against the hard ground.
- >A lance of pain spears your skull and you let out a silent scream.
- >A few minutes pass before you manage to partially right yourself.
- >The pain in your head hasn’t diminished, you must be hungover.
- >You manage to sit on the curb.
- >One eye slightly open, you look down at yourself.
- >Baggy grey shirt, covered in filth, and a pair of torn, faded jeans, also stained with dirt and other grime.
- >You don’t have any shoes on.
- >Looking around you spy an empty bottle laying quietly in the gutter.
- >You check your pockets.
- >Nothing.
- >Fuck…
- >You stand and another spike of pain courses through your body and implants itself in your head.
- >You wince and begin the long walk back to your dorm.
- >You think back to the events of the previous night.
- >Things were kind of blurry.
- >You hear the train’s whistle in the distance.
- >Stopping in your tracks, you remember.
- ---
- >You could hear it now.
- >Its rumble growing louder with every passing second.
- >You take a deep breath and exhale slowly.
- >You turn the volume up car’s speakers.
- >https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJEoxeW7JvQ
- >Grabbing the bottle of gun on the seat next to you, you pull off the cap.
- >Pressing it to your lips you hear the whistle of the train scream out.
- >Its headlights shimmer across the car’s interior.
- >You take a swig and lower the bottle, resting your head against the back of the seat.
- >The music fills your ears and you close your eyes.
- >…
- >You almost don’t hear the passenger door open.
- >Your eyes flick open and you turn to see a beautiful grey-skinned women of about-your-age.
- >Her long black hair frames her face and trails down to her lap.
- >You mouth: Wha-
- >Her slender hand raises itself to the knob that controls the volume.
- >It delicately twists the music to a much more reasonable listening level.
- >Gently retracting her hand, she turns her head to face you.
- >The train’s whistle sounds.
- >It’s close now, not much longer.
- >You stare into her deep purple eyes.
- “H-hello?”
- >She turns her head forward.
- >A lock of her hair swings around at the motion.
- >Light from the train shines through the stray lock of hair.
- >Your mind goes numb for a moment as you stare at the girl next to you.
- >Suddenly your heart rate spikes.
- >Your hands are shaking, but you manage to twist the key in the ignition.
- >The engine roars to life.
- >Your eyes never leave the girl.
- >A brief smile flits across her face.
- >Slamming the car into drive, you turn your head forward and press your foot to the gas.
- >The car lurches forward, clambering over the tracks.
- >You drive just beyond the warning bar and stop.
- >Slowly shifting the car to park and stopping the engine, you hear the train thunder across the tracks where you were parked just moments before.
- >You turn back to the girl to find her already staring at you.
- >Silence fills the car.
- >Not an awkward silence, nor a dreadful one, but a silence that fills the gap of two people introducing themselves, a proper sort of silence.
- >She leans over you, a stern look having pervaded her face.
- >Her aroma washes over you as her hand gracefully slides the key out of the ignition.
- >She smells of lilac.
- >You watch as she takes the keys and brings her hand back to her lap.
- >You finally manage to speak up.
- “W-what?”
- >”What, indeed.”
- >…
- >”Shall we be off then?”
- “Y-you have the keys.”
- >”Well, you did just try to do something awful.”
- >You look at her.
- >She smiles a kind, comforting smile at you.
- >Her eyes are filled with warmth.
- >You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit the car, gin in hand.
- >As you walk around the car, her door opens as well.
- >She elegantly strides past you, filling your nostrils with her scent.
- >You stumble to the passenger side and get in.
- >She’s already in the driver’s seat, door closed, seat belt fastened.
- >Closing your door and buckling your belt, you turn to watch as she starts the car.
- >”So, where shall I drop you off?”
- >You think for a moment.
- >Bvrrrt…bvrrrt…bvrrrt…
- >The reason for your attempted suicide rushes back to your mind.
- >Raising the bottle of gin, you look down at it and tell her.
- “Macintosh’s Bar at the corner of Fifth and Mane.”
- >She sighs and shifts the car into drive.
- ---
- >That’s where your wallet and phone went too.
- >Your phone was plugged into the car’s jack and you gave her your wallet with your ID in it so she could return your car.
- >Big Mac probably just added last night to your tab.
- >Your head throbs.
- >Knowing a bar’s owned helped when you didn’t have your ID.
- >You didn’t even get her name.
- >Hell, she probably just stole your car and wallet.
- >Damn it.
- >You shouldn’t have driven off the tracks.
- >You should have just let that train kill you and-
- >You almost immediately regret thinking that thought.
- >Your head starts throbbing again.
- >You slowly march home.
- >Your car is sitting in the parking lot of your dorm.
- >Peering in the window you spy your wallet, sitting on the seat, and your phone, still plugged into the center console.
- >You try the door.
- >Locked.
- >Well then.
- >The keys don’t appear to be inside the car.
- >You walk around it and step up the staircase to your building.
- >You live in a large two-story dorm on the old side of Canterlot University.
- >A fresh coat of paint on the outside hides the true age of the building, but the low ceilings and small doors of the interior reveal the truth.
- >Pushing open the door you step into a tight carpeted hallway lined with doors.
- >You drag yourself through the musty corridor.
- >As you approach your room, the door across from it opens and out steps Flash Sentry.
- >”Hey, bro.”
- >You nod at him and grab the handle of your door.
- >It’s locked.
- >” Having trouble?”
- “Door’s locked.”
- >”Yeah, I hear ya, bro. Hey, listen, I got the key, man.”
- >You sigh.
- “Why do you have my key?”
- >”Some wicked hot grey-skinned beauty with a smoking body swung by and dropped it off. I turned on the old Flash Sentry charm, but she didn’t take the bait, fucking dyke.”
- >You stare at him.
- >The more he talks the stronger the pain in your head grows.
- >You hold out your hand and he ducks back into his room.
- >A few moments later he returns and hands you the keys.
- “Thanks.”
- >”Yeah, no prob, bro.”
- >He closes the door.
- >Fucking cunt.
- >Your head throbs in pain.
- >Looking down at the key ring in your hand you realize that you now have access to your car.
- >Another jolt of pain rushes through your head.
- >…
- >I’ll deal with it later.
- >The next day…
- >You stare at the note she left in your car.
- >It reads: “Don’t give up. We will meet again soon.”
- >An expertly drawn treble clef followed.
- >You don’t even know her name.
- >She trusts you not to kill yourself though.
- >You aren’t sure if that’s stupid or kind of her.
- >Twisting the key in the ignition and pocketing the note, you turn in time to see a familiar motorcycle pulling into the lot.
- >A wave of horror and dread spreads through your body.
- >Rainbow Dash.
- >You see the dark plate of her helmet turn towards you.
- >Slamming the car into reverse, you back up quickly.
- >She speeds up and pulls right next to you.
- >Her gloved hand knocks on the window.
- >Turning swiftly, you shift into drive and pound the pedal.
- >The car takes off through the parking lot.
- >Dash’s motorcycle screeches after you.
- >You make a sharp turn out into the street.
- >She matches.
- >You accelerate down the empty road, swerving occasionally, but nothing shakes her.
- >You spy an intersection with a busy one-way road ahead.
- >Your mind goes numb as you consider your next move.
- >It’s a small college town so there aren’t that many cops.
- >You’re a good driver.
- >Right?
- >Is it worth it?
- >You turn your head and see the ends of her rainbow-colored hair flapping in the wind.
- >…
- >FUCK.
- >No, you weren’t going to be caught by her.
- >You power through the red light and drift right into the oncoming traffic.
- >You push down on the gas, accelerating.
- >Swerving around the first few cars you check your mirror to see that she is no longer following you.
- >Turning your full attention back to game of life and death in front of you, you fully realize what you’re doing.
- >It feels exhilarating.
- >Like you are more alive now than you ever have been before.
- >For a moment you forget everything, except the adrenaline rushing through you.
- >You are violently returned to reality.
- >There is only one way to avoid it.
- >First, you are not an expert evasive driver, so you have no idea what you’re even doing.
- >Second, you were not paying enough attention and now that your eyes are back on the road it’s too late to successfully avoid the truck barreling towards you.
- >Only one option.
- >You slam the wheel left hard.
- >*Screeeeeeech*
- >BLAM
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