Apparent Passenger

The dead of the night was welcoming the reverie into my thoughts after a long day of driving, The winnowing of cold air was prominent as the windows were winded down, I was driving down the suburb, heading back to my home where my bed was. I concentrated on the wind orchestra of the night only to find a thumb was raised from a distance from the car.

Don’t stop. my instincts were sharp, but my hands swerved the wheel into her direction. Pulling the brakes beside the apparition from far. It was a her, with long dangling hair, and a beer bottle in her hands, she’s drunk. “Where do you live miss?” I asked courteously.

“I… haha…. I don’t…” Wuakk! A cocktail of the consumed alcohol and junk inside her was spread over the cushion. Shit! I should have wind up the window. Her hands manoeuvered the handle of the door, opening it to let herself in, “The… fifth… avenue…. cab… please… hahaha…” she laughed hysterically, attempting to fasten up her seat belt.

Drunkard. She is so wasted. “fu… this little… bastard… hahaha… do you… think… hehe… you selfish… sonofabitc…” she stroked her hair back, revealing her complexion, no doubt, she is the teen that lived in the house full of college kids. 

Her eyes veered into me, scrutinising me, “You.. hahaah…. lookso… what… familiar…” I kept quite and drove, letting her not to recognise me, or else “AHAHHH! YOU ARE THE NEIGHBOUR! YOU FUC… hahaha…” she clearly lost it. 

The next moment she was quiet, she had sunk into a deep, I was wrong, “Do you feel so left out?” she somehow regained her drunk composure, asking me random questions of life. “like life wants to ditch you into hell, and let you rot in it?”

“This is what life is.” I answered a textbook question, “don’t waste it on alcohol, it’s not worth it.” wrong sentence.

She grumbled a gibberish of swear words, “What is life anyway?” another random question from her.

“A silver cord bound by hope.” she went quiet instantaneously, pondering about my words, and blurted a couple dozens of unrelated crap to the sky, cussing the world, hating everything bad that had happened, shitting on the people around her, ranting about the life that she had, that the entirety of humans all had.

We reached her house, pulled her out from the car, “Don’t tell my mum about this,” she uttered, “Can you pray for me?” An uncanny request, I breathed a short prayer into her, asking for His hope to shower over her.

She passed out as soon as I laid my words on her. I knocked unto the door, there was her roommates appearing and dragged her in. She was completely wasted.

Craving for more? Down below:
Providence’s Circle
Close, But Not Close Enough
Breaking Through
Tangled Skein


Published by zeckrombryan

Hope. Joy. Feelings cloaked as words.

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