San Francisco is somewhere. Beacon Hills, however, is more like nowhere. I tried to tell my mom that, but she wouldn’t listen. I never really asked why we had to move, either. Just thinking about it had made me miserable. And now, it was coming true.
She’s letting me drive myself there, at the very least, so I could stay with Kaitlyn and Jake and Laura a little longer. Saying goodbye has always been the hardest part. But mom guaranteed that San Francisco was the end for us. We lived there on and off since fourth grade, making occasional “temporary” homes other places. I never liked any of them.
It’s kind of creepy here. I steer the truck through the trees, wondering where all the other cars are. I know it’s a little late to be on the road, but I’d been hoping to see at least one other person. You know? Unfortunately, my wish is anything but granted.
I hear a howl from the forest, and instinctively shiver, cranking up the Taylor Swift playing on my radio. I don’t hear the howling again, but the memory of it tingles on my spine. I drum the dashboard nervously.
“Continue straight for six more miles!” Lois, the GPS chirps. I set her to have a British accent, but I’m regretting it now, because she scared the sh-t out of me.
“Thanks, Lois,” I say, tapping my fingernails on the steering wheel. After a moment more, I turn the switch on Lois to “off.” I can’t deal with having her talking to me every fifty feet, especially when I have six miles of straight road to go. It’s a straight shot – it’s not like I’ll get lost or anything, right?
After a few more minutes, the howling starts again. I persist in cranking up the car stereo as loudly as I can go, but I can’t let go of the uneasy feeling that something’s watching me. The feeling of eyes on my back.
There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I want to curl up in a ball and pretend I’m not here. I feel sick.
I keep driving. My fingernails are painted bright red. I thought it was cute, but now it’s too bright. Like blood.
Why did Mom let me drive myself down here? This could’ve been okay in daylight, but now, with the moon rising, it’s not just bad: it’s scary.
I turn down the music. It’s making me deaf. And jumpier. It’s only dulling the sounds outside, not masking them completely.
Very suddenly, something rams into my car. I feel the impact shake through my bones, feel it knock me down. I don’t breathe. Instead, I wait, foot clamped on the accelerator, even though I don’t remember putting it there.
I’m speeding, and I don’t even care. And I make it out of the forest. I don’t look back.
That night, I dream of wolves, and of blood. I hear the howling in my sleep, and reality and dreams start to blend.
k i would like paste the bio here but im too lazy @dark-blue-doll