The car continues speeding down to the side of the road. The disgusting smell of burnt tires makes its way through the broken front panel. The car's flickering led lights clear the view a couple of meters forward. With very few obstacles on the road, everything seemed to look clean, I was safe. My eyes darted at the rearview. Still. All this time, his gaze wouldn't lift off me. His stance was cold and primitive, similar to that of a wolf, his body unmoving like a stalking predator. Dirt covered his visage, while a mixture of dried blood and sweat bathed his lips. Yet, even though he found himself in that true pitiful state, his gaze remained focused. On me. Eyes narrowed I only spare him a couple of glances at first. Memories back from high school come back to life. My philosophy teacher once said the eyes were a window to the soul. Only now did I manage to understand the meaning behind that sentence. His eyes were those of someone whose soul had been on the verge of crumbling, someone who was lost. Behind the apparently impenetrable cover hid a lonely, frightened kid. That was what I thought, he confirmed I was wrong. His presence spoke something entirely different than mine. That difference... The only fact that made us apart. That which he had and I had not. Beaten up, swollen, broken, bloody, scared. The list of words that could be used to describe us both was almost as long as the dictionary itself. Yet somehow defeated wasn't one of them. Giving up? Losing faith? His mind couldn't and wouldn't understand the meaning behind those expressions. We were very different in that sense. The fire in his eyes screamed hope. Hope that someone may be still alive hiding somewhere, trust in the fact that his family rested in safety and that his loved ones weren't hurt. His stance was slow and worn out, but eventually, his lips were the ones who spoke first. His raspy and tough tone of voice brought forth the nightmare he had just lived. Where are you going? Where are you running away exactly? I try evading his image, but he is everywhere. Any and all reflections carry his words. Stop being a coward. Look outside. That darkness is not normal, this atmosphere is not normal, and neither are those monsters and all this havoc. My gaze moves to the outside for a second, the blanket that covers the sky isn't fading, the stars and moon are nowhere to be seen despite it being nighttime. No wind, no breeze, just unmoving asphyxiating air increases the feeling of nausea. I have escaped the devil, but the timer keeps running, just quieter. There is something you are completely ignorant about, and running away from won't do. We look at each other in the eyes fiercely, his gaze remains decisive, and mine represents desperation and indecision. My gaze slips to the pedal, and my feet approach ever so slightly towards the throttle. I need to get away from here. I must find help. That's what I'll do. My subconscious begs for a dead-minded task, not to think, not to process everything, nor to survive. The true reason remains a mystery for him. My feet press the throttle, the car starts accelerating back on the empty road, approaching the void that tainting the horizon. You know it's an excuse. My eyes meet his again, I try ignoring him in vain, however, his words manage to pierce my skull. Can't dodge, can't counter-attack, can't block with a made-up lie. The impact connects with unmatched force. Truth does hurt. You are frightened. You are scared shitless of what you have just gone through. "No, that is not..." You don't want to face it ever again, to the point you don't mind dooming yourself to achieve it. "Shut up! SHUT UP!" Stop lying to yourself motherfucker. |BANG!| I punch the glass of the mirror in an impulsive attempt to kill the reflection. My fist pulsates with fresh blood, yet somehow he isn't gone, not yet. The shards of glass mirror his lips, his cold determined eyes stare at me from all angles, he can see through my tethered dirtied clothes, through my skin and bones, up to my very soul. "I'm crazy, I must have gone crazy!" I intend on going faster, the noise of the engine should be able to overpower his voice. My body listens and pushes my feet towards the throttle. The speedometer marks passed the limit of two digits, looks like I'm only paying attention to him. Checkmate. My body has a will of its own, my other foot pushes the brake in a rush. "What?!" With the smell and smoke of plastic and incandescent asphalt, the car spins out of control for a few eternal seconds before stopping completely just a few feet away from the edge of the road. I stand paralyzed, my head spinning and processing what just happened, trying to understand the reason. The reason is clear enough. My own foot is still fiercely pressed against the breaks. His will is powerful. Go back, you need answers, admit it. "Let go-h!!" My voice sounds damaged, almost on the verge of a breakdown. I'm weak. He isn't. You are clueless about what is going on, all these people are dead and no one is coming to give you an explanation. Like a little child, I burst into tears once again and start punching the driving wheel in a burst of rage. The thing is, even if he manifested itself in that object I so desperately raged against, I would still probably lose. Because he always had a single trait I never even bothered to glance at. Not any hero, not any survivor, not the military, not mom nor dad, not anyone. I try ordering my foot to stop pressing the breaks, to let me go, stop retaining me here and let me escape. The exact word to describe that skill, or rather power. Relentless. You are alone, remember? "WHAT DO YOU WANT-T! " My emotional turmoil finally makes its way out with an expansion wave, havoc and destruction are unleashed through my words. Rage is color red, just like the blood falling from his eyes. Pain is mostly transparent, just like the tears descending down my cheeks.

I WANT YOU TO THINK IDIOT!! His tone contrasts with his previous one, somewhat impassive and commanding, but his will remains pure. My palm forms a fist, punching me right in the jaw just strong enough for me not to fall unconscious from the impact. For several minutes the one-sided beatdown continues. Like a bucket of cold icy water, my thought process stops as if wanting to experience that sensation further. I hate suffering and pain the same, but for now, they are my only anchor to sanity. Several minutes pass, and only when I manage to calm my nerves does he talk. If I let you go, right here, right now. If you drive off this road, away from this city, to wherever the hell you end up. Will you regret having run away from this place? That disgusting silence is back. Will you regret being a coward for the rest of your life? I'm running away... How did I not notice it? Will you leave the little you ever had behind? The question oozes into my mind. "What am I leaving behind? In hell?" Flames. Monsters. Danger. Pain. Suffering. Death. Mysteries. The Unknown. A wreck of what I used to know. A nightmare. He doesn't need to talk. He knows, therefore I know. It is a facade. There must be something further beyond all those emotions. "What am I truly leaving behind?" Our lips intertwined in time, for once. Like a montage, a compilation of all of those memories made through the years runs through my mind. What lies beyond fear? The veil fades as my fingers reach past. My brother and I playing Juan Bross on the Wee and laughing one off while eating popcorn, chilling and uncaring we had always been. My mother and I going for a walk in the park, having that uncomfortable conversation about feelings mothers likes to have every once in a while. My sister and I having a discussion like always and managing to reconcile in a hug at the end of the day and pull off jokes the next minute. My father and I preparing dinner for new year's eve while joking about my grandma's snoring and the trash cooks we were. My family. The neighbors. Achievements. My successes. My rejections. My first love. Adventures. My friends. Lessons. Failures. Laughs. Jokes. Effort. Cries. Lies. It was all staring down at me from that sleeping eyeball. It was all inside that burning havoc, and I was trying to get away from it. Do you understand now? "No" No, I do not want to. I'm scared, of it, of that thing, that monster. I'm scared of what will happen to me if I turn back. With my shaking hands, I pick the image of a family hanging in the compartment of the car. Likely the owners of the same vehicle I sit on the right at this very moment. Their smiles melt in my eyelids, they all looked so happy, so uncaring, so loving. And it was a lie. False, Outdated, stuck in a fake far-gone past. I knew what happened to them. Yes. Laying outside, in the middle of the asphalt, back when I was running away from that abomination, back when I thought it would be the end of me. The reason I didn't escape through the car's door back when I thought it was over. It wasn't blind trust, it was the smell of death that scared me. Their empty and consumed skulls faced me and I got petrified. They weren't a happy family anymore, they were dead. All three of them weren't a laughing happy family, they were mummies, corpses. Putrified up to the point their last hug in agony had fused their dry skin and bones becoming one decimated sculpture. I'm not ready for seeing them like that. Then become ready. What would I do if I saw them dead? I wanted to get away from this place. Running off somewhere far away, leave their lives hanging in the void of indetermination somewhere far away. That had been my decision, and it repulsed me to the core of my being. "UghGHHg-- Ughgh" My guts contracted as I tried to puck out, but my stomach was completely empty of food. My body was already broken, a mixture of acid and saliva coated the floor. "All of them were gone, right?" I was a pitiful crying baby. Stand up. Find out for yourself. Like a spark, my tears lit up as his voice reached me. Salvation. You have nothing to fear anymore. You have nothing to lose anymore.