Saturday 4 May 2019

A Pretty Girl's Plea

By Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik

Lucozade

You stand accused of the murder of two good men. You have pleaded not guilty. It would please the court if you could provide us with testimony.
The cruel wind cried harshly and rattled against the roof of the silver BMW filled with lashing freezing rain and odd disjointed lost screams from the beyond. The skies blackened heavily until the rough tarmac of the mountain road and its inky darkness almost merged into one, and it was rendered impossible to tell one from the other. My head grew heavy and began to slump permissively downwards as I drove as fast as I could up the mountainside, or at least until I found another path to cross onto. My sight grew ever dimmer as a looked forward, attempting to see which way the road was going next. My attempts were in vain. And yet still, I followed the flow of the inky black river that I found before me, desperate to get off this road while what little light remained still remained in the sky. I rubbed my raven hair out of my eyes as a saw what I thought was a hairpin bend up ahead. I do not know what happened. The front of my car harshly slammed against a huge impermeable object ahead that my sleepy eyes had not seen. A huge smack echoed all around and then a great hiss of the engine as it failed. My head slapped against the dashboard. I disappeared into a strange pool of everything and nothing as my mind zoomed in and out of consciousness. There was a strange feeling in my left arm.

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