You were laughing, a cold, shrill sound. I glanced across the seat of the new Ford Mustang convertible. Your usually blue eyes were dilated to shining, inky pools of chemical induced insanity.

I could hear the wail of sirens somewhere in the distance behind us. There was very little chance of the police catching up with us now, but I don’t think you could understand that in your state.

Not ten minutes before we had been walking down the street just looking for some form of entertainment when you spotted the Mustang. Walking over you ran a caressing hand over the hood. No alarms went off, and as I joined you I wondered what kind of person left a brand new Mustang convertible in a neighborhood like this with no alarm. The grass green finish shone bright under even just the meager street lamps and I could picture us speeding away from the city, the top down, the sun shining, just driving away and never coming back.

“She’s beautiful,” I said, running my fingertips over her, afraid to leave a mark.

“Yes she is.” I should have been concerned by the tone of your voice, but I was so enthralled by the car that I didn’t notice.

“I wonder what it would be like to drive her.”

“Let’s find out.” I turned and I could see the insanity rising on your face. Your smile was a shade too bright and your eyes darted around rapidly, focusing and unfocusing. I hadn’t realized it was so close to coming again. It seemed to be shorter and shorter times in between when it rose, boiling over into your every day actions. Averting my eyes I glanced at the tattoos that covered your arms, hiding track marks that grew every time the instability came.

“What?”

“Let’s take her. She’d fetch a nice amount of money.”

“I’m not sure – “

“Think of all the fun we could have off of the kind of money a car like this would bring in. We could fly!”

“I think you’re already flying.”

“Haven’t you ever -?”

“Only with you.” I cut you off quickly. “I have other ways to escape.”

You nodded and turned back to the car and before I knew what was happening the door had popped open and you slid behind the wheel. The top rolled down and you grinned. “Get in.”

“You’ve done this before.”

“Get in.” I gave in and listened to your urgings, wondering how much else you had done that I didn’t know about. Realizing just how little I knew about you I felt my stomach sink a little, but at the same time I could feel myself beginning to laugh. Stealing a car was very different from lifting a wallet or pawning some jewelry that I had swiped.

The engine purred quietly and as you pulled away from the curb I couldn’t even feel how badly the city street needed to be paved. Headlights off you started out of the city, speeding through stop signs and traffic lights alike, until the shrill cry of a siren and a flash of lights signaled you to pull over. Swearing you sped up, taking sharp turns, trying to lose the police car. Eventually, with the help of the lights still being out, we managed to slip by the officer, but the sound of sirens was still very near.

“We need to get out of here,” I whispered, thinking about what I had in my pockets. “Out of the city.” A drunk staggered by, saluted us and turned to piss on the brick wall behind him.

“It was time to move on, anyway. Things were getting dry around here.”

“Only because you dried it out.” You shrugged and said nothing, easing the car back into motion and heading out of the city.

75 MPH:

The lights were still out as the city disappeared behind us. The road twisted away from where you thought it should go and we almost ran off the road. Wrapping my coat a little tighter around my shoulders I closed my eyes.

“Don’t you think we should slow down?”

“Slow down. What for? This is just starting to be fun.”

“All right… maybe just turn the headlights on?”

“And get arrested? Fuck that shit. You backing out on me now, Karma?”

“Of course not. I just think that the road isn’t going where you think it is and that –” I choked on my words. You swerved back onto the road, laughing at my panic.

“I have it under control. Relax. Just leave it all to me. Just like always.”

“I just think – “

“You just think we need to get arrested again. After everything I went through to get us out of it last time. Well you can just fucking get out here and wait for the police if you’re so determined to go back to jail, but don’t expect me to come with you.”

I felt my face get hot and my eyes narrow. Totally forgetting tat you were driving at high speeds on a winding road with your lights out I turned in my seat and hit you as hard as I could in the side of the head. “You think you’re such hot shit, don’t you, Regina Pratt?” I spat the name as harshly as I could, knowing how it would effect you, but not giving you time to respond. “You think you’re so special because you got arrested for possession, grand theft auto and assault with a deadly weapon and I was only in there for petty larceny. Who really got us out of that jail? Who fucked the guard so she could lift his keys? It sure as shit wasn’t you!”

I took a breath and looked at you. You were laughing again

“Good for you. That’s what I like to see. Don’t take shit from anyone. Fight back, get mean. It gets you farther.” And, still laughing, you delivered a blow to my side that doubled me over, gasping for breath. “And don’t ever call me Regina again,” you said, still smiling.

I wheezed out an agreement and sat rubbing my side, wondering how you had managed to hit me from that angle, but afraid to ask in case you decided to demonstrate again.

85 MPH:

The road curved away from us, and you almost missed other turn.

“Rage, honey, don’t you think that maybe you should please turn your lights on? The road is getting worse.”

“And here I had such hopes for you. For a minute I thought you were developing a backbone.”

“I have a backbone, I’m just not looking forward to dying.”

“Everyone has to die sometime. Don’t be afraid of it.”

“I’m not afraid of dying sometime, I’m afraid of dying now.”

“Would you rather go back to jail? It’s one or the other. I can still hear the fucking cops behind us.”

“A long way behind us.”

“But there hasn’t been another road for miles, there’s nowhere else we could have gone. If we slow down they’ll catch us.” The stars winked overhead, looking like they had a secret, something they shared with the sliver of moon that they weren’t letting me in on. They glittered like broken shards of glass, holding my wrists to them, daring me to question what was happening.

“I’m not asking you to slow down, just turn your lights on. If there’s nowhere else for us to have gone anyway the lights won’t make a difference.” I didn’t think reason would work on you in the state of insanity you were in, but I still had to try. Giving up would be like calling an angel of death down to my shoulder to watch and wait. Then, suddenly, the lights flared to life before us. I went to thank you, but never got the chance, the tree came first.

95 MPH:

Now my head hurts and I don’t want to open my eyes, but I can hear you standing over me and there is a slight chance that you might be worried about me. My eyes just don’t want to open and as I bring my hand up to my face I can feel that I’m bleeding. “Shit.” I can’t sit up. It feels like there is a weight upon my chest that I can’t lift. Getting my eyes open I see that there really is a weight on my chest, your foot. One of your steel-toed boots was on my chest and I’m staring at the gun that had just been in my pocket.

“Rage?”

“You want to send me back! Think you can get rid of me that way. Well I won’t let you. They aren’t going to take me back to jail. I won’t go!”

“Rage, honey, I – “

“Don’t ‘honey’ me. I loved you. I trusted you. I listened to you when you told me to turn the fucking lights on. If I hadn’t been busy letting my eyes adjust to them I would have seen the fucking tree! You did this to me on purpose, you little bitch!”

“I – “

“No! If you’re so determined to see the police you’ll get to, but they won’t take me. You did this to me, so I’m going to have to use you to get out of it.”

There are lights flashing on the road, but you don’t seem to notice. Bending down you grab my hair and pull me to my feet. I can barely stand with your grip on my head, but I stumble up and stay there, with the gun pointed at me.

The police are yelling something, but I can’t hear them, all I can hear is my heart beating in my head. You shout something back, and I can’t even tell what you say, everything feels like a bad movie. The gun fires in the direction of the cops, and I can feel my mouth opening to scream, but the barrel of the gun is pressed to the side of my head, and I choke back the scream, afraid of what you might do.

“Rage, please,” I whisper.

“I loved you,” you reply grimly.