Backseat

He sees black and locks his car as I approach. Politely tapped on his window. He looked at what I was holding. He also noticed the look in my eyes. Understanding this was an urgent situation and how I needed his undivided attention he complied by rolling it down two inches. Only enough to hear my instructions. He stares at my clinched hand. Instantly locks go pop and door eases open. His hands raised and slowly walks away. Car still running. Shifts to "D" in point five seconds. Car shifts 0 to 60 in three point o. Still standing still in my rearview. Two seconds for him to disappear. Lower the stereo to listen to the peace of escape. Reminiscing on the screams of past victims. In joy I ride away sympathies. Finally I roll the window back up like it never happened. Blushing to be the proud new temporary owner of the night. If only I could add a new car smell. Instead I smell hints of fresh milk. In the passenger I see an open bottle. White substance spread on the seat. My peripherals see minor movement. New screams I hear but I'm not on memory road this time. In the rearview I see more than the road. I see a hand reach out for me. The body occasionally lights up in passing light posts from overhead. Never have I seen such a pale being strapped in tight not aware of whats going on. Maybe it smells a familiar fragrance from the passenger seat. Screams roar louder. On the realization of this complication I scream inside my head. Never have I seen one cry so loudly over spilled milk. Heart starts racing at the sight of more lights on the road behind me. But this time they are colored. My face alternates from red to blue in the side view mirror. More screams I hear but this time it's from the car behind me. Over I pull as my spine is pulled from the history of my career. The decorated gentlemen taps my window. Piece of mine taps back. His peace of mind is shattered like the driver side window. Piece of mine screams louder than the one in the backseat. My tires scream exhaling screeches of smoke as I smell the burn of rubber through the empty window. The gentleman is now decorated in gravel, blood, and grey mist. I'm decorated with the pressure of escape. Have to dump this car and baby. Road block in front of me.

Game over.