Before The Last Light

Before The Last Light

A Story by Aeneas Barton
"

A man going through a dissociative spell, attempts to break up with his abusive girlfriend on the drive home.

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You don't want to think about that...he didn't want to think about it at all..I don't want to think about it at all. I am trying hard at not narrating myself...it's my way of getting through life...it's my defense mechanism. It detaches me from reality. I can't help it. It's a habit. At least I acknowledge that much...that I do these things. I wonder if anyone else does... I wonder if crazy people know thy are crazy...I wonder if anyone who was president or PM or something... I wonder if they have funny thoughts like me. 

The Church

S**t, 299 lights left. I should be gathering the courage to tell her I am dumping her a*s and leaving. Wait a second, why the hell am I leaving..it's my damn house and my car and my everything else. I have to kick her a*s to the curb. 

Courage was building, the car was speeding up. I'll man up by the time we hit the cemetery. Yes, that will be the mark, the cemetery. I can do this, I can do this. She is nothing but f*****g trouble. trouble trouble trouble. She f***s other guys, gets fucked up, and takes out her aggression on me. F**k this, the end is near! The end is here! Fires of hell will rain down from the sky on her. The plagues of Egypt will not compare to the f*****g hammer of s**t-storms I will slam down on her c**t-face.

The cemetery was just ahead. Jeez those last lights went by fast

"Why are you driving so fast?"
"..."
"You're speeding"
"...I want you out of the house."
"What!?"
"Look after what happened back there, I've had enough. You're nothing but trouble."
"You're breaking up with me?"
"Yes."
She started slapping him and punching him in the face. All he could do was scream...this wasn't the first time she got physical with him. In fact, it was probably something closer to the 1,000th time. The last time was less than an hour ago at the bar. He should have never gone to the bar. His body was still sore from that incident. Now here he was getting another beating...while he was trying to drive.
"It's another woman isn't it? you found someone else? You cheating b*****d!"
He wasn't going to yell stop. She was too coked up amongst other things to realize what she was doing. His pity had run out though, no more. To hell with this s**t-storm of a situation.

He wasn't sure if he could have regained control of the car, maybe he could have but didn't want to. Or maybe if he tried hard enough he could make sure the two get home alive.

F**k it, its hopeless. What did he have? In short, not much. Oh well, I guess that's the way life goes.

It was too late to change his mind now. The car managed to take out the last light on the trail before coming to a complete stop. His head was against the steering wheel, with the dash lights shining brightly in his eyes. All he could hear was the radio...


© 2013 Aeneas Barton



Author's Note

Aeneas Barton
This might require more than one reading. Previous feedback from people has been they either love it, or hate it.

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Added on March 18, 2013
Last Updated on March 18, 2013
Tags: domestic, abuse, car, wreck, streetlight, highway, bar, cocaine, drugs, alcohol, psychology, disassociation, identity, disorder

Author

Aeneas Barton
Aeneas Barton

About
I am who I am. You know the best way to go about meeting a stranger is through conversation. I get inspired to write by various different things. Sometimes it's music, other times, it's by listening t.. more..

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A Story by Aeneas Barton