Feb. 7th, 2016

hailthenarc: (Default)
My father always told me that first impressions are the most important things. Always be polite, keep yourself well groomed, try not to smell like a dumpster, and no matter how offensive the other person gets, never stoop to their level. Above all, always be kind, for everyone you know is fighting a harder battle. I try to keep this in mind every day of my life, and while it has gotten me into some unfortunate situations, it's saved me from more things than it's started.

One day, I took a road trip down state, towards New York City. It was a big day, I packed my bags, kissed my mother goodbye, stuck my little chihuahua mix in the back seat and headed down. I was your typical young woman having an adventure away from home, the music blasting in my beat up old car, windows down, yelling off key along to the lyrics like I was staring in some stupid coming of age movie, so on and so forth.

My mother had impressed on me the importance of staying safe along the road. Wear your seat belt, don't text and drive, always top off the tank when it gets low, and never, ever stop for any hitchhikers on the way there. I swear, I was going to do this. I really was. I never wanted to disobey my mother, but when I saw that man on the side of the road, his thumb stuck out, his worn, grizzled features, dirty stubble and old clothes, my heart ached. I couldn't let him sit out there. No one could be that cruel.

I pulled over for him immediately, popping open the door for the man and smiling.

"Need a lift?" I asked with a grin, patting the drivers seat. I remember he smelled like cheap whiskey and piss as he pushed his way into the car. He was so tall he could barely fit, and had to push the seat back all the way in order to get some decent leg room. With the sun starting to creep down across the sky, I peeled rubber and headed out again. Remembering my fathers words, I started to talk to him, cheerfully chatting about current events and what was going on in my life.

He was reserved, quiet. A soft spoken man with a gravely rumbling voice, like he gargled with gasoline and gravel. He was on hard times, he said. His wife had left him and vanished with their daughter, he'd lost his job, all his money, his parents were dead, and supposedly the doctors had told him he was slowly dying of lung cancer, a payment for smoking since he was a teen. He was going into the city in order to try and get a new job, a construction job working on a new business firm. He was sure this was going to be what turned everything around for him.

At that moment, I was so thankful I'd taken him in, feeling a sort of motherly affection, despite his advanced age over me. By this point, the sun had sunken over the hills, and the light of the other cars had dimmed. We had just reached an area that was heavily wooded, close to some national park apparently, when my passenger demanded we stop.

"I have to piss." He grunted, and of course, I happily pulled over to the side of the road. I wasn't prepared for when he grabbed my hair, and dragged me from my seat, pulling me towards the woods on the other side of the car. But... I remembered my father at all times. No screaming, no hitting. I just pleaded with him, my feet skidding over the ground.

He didn't want to do this, I tried to reason with him. Whatever he was planning, he wasn't going to like the end result, I could get him to where he needed if he just-

At that point, he hurled me to the ground, removing a filthy knife from the inside of his coat.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled thickly, his eyes glowing with madness and lust. "Gotta. I gotta. Ain't got a choice anymore, you'll go to heaven, don't worry-"

... I wish I could tell you that someone came and was a hero here. I wish I could say that no one was hurt, and that I managed to get to the city.

... I stumbled back to my car, drunken and dizzy.

He'd apparently had a lot to drink before he got here, and it was so hard for me to pick the shards of bone and hair out of my teeth that I couldn't even bother. I hoped I wouldn't be pulled over before I got to a rest station. My little dog, bless him, was still waiting for me in the car, he knows how things get sometimes, and knows he always gets something for being patient.

I forgot what I grabbed, but it was pretty heavy, and tossed the slab of organ meat back at him, which he eagerly started to gnaw on.

Always be polite. Always be kind.

"Daddy's gonna be pissed." I slurred as I fumbled with my phone.

"Fifth time this month too, mom's gonna be so upset."

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