Night Drive

She came out of nowhere. Before he could react, Mark had hit her. None of it felt real. His head swam. He tried thinking about what had happened, but it played back like a bad highlight reel. He saw a pale figure of a woman. His leg slammed into the break pedal, the muscles in his calf straining in a Herculean effort to stop the inevitable. He could hear the tires screech, but it was muffled, as though he was underwater. Then the thump came as her slight body battled the two-ton metal monster. It seemed to take a lifetime for the car to come to a stop. He sat there, fingers digging in to the steering wheel. The shock spread across his ashen face. His wide eyes glassed over. He knew exactly what he had done. His eyes rose to the mirror. Under the orange glow of the streetlights he could see her lying there. The soft autumn rain patted down on her form. For a moment, Mark thought that maybe she was just dazed. He watched her, desperately willing her chest to rise in a life saving breath. No breath came. And as Mark sat there, he started to see her soft yellow dress turn crimson as blood seeped from her wounds. He knew what he had done. He had killed a woman.
He did not know how long he had sat there, just watching her lifeless form. Her blood, mixing in with the falling rain, swirled in the gutters like an artist cleaning a paintbrush. He knew what would happen. He would be arrested. He would lose his job, his wife; his children would be told he was a monster. And he would go to jail, all because she came out of nowhere. A tear rolled down his face as his lip curled up into a snarl. He screamed and balled his fist, slamming it against the steering wheel. As he regained his composure he once again looked into the mirror to see the girl. She was still there. In the distance, he could see car headlights. He knew he had seconds to react. He could not have his life stripped away from him. Not because of her. Not because of a second long lapse in concentration. He drove off, his wheels spinning on the damp tarmac.
Tears came freely as the rain grew heavier. He flicked the windscreen wipers on. The combination of his tears and the rain made his visibility almost nil. A salty tear landed on his bottom lip. As the tears became too much, he wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. His eyes returned to the road, and there she was.
This time he swerved, the tires fighting to keep a grip on the sodden road. He wrestled the steering wheel from one side to the next. With a jerk, he came to a stop. The seatbelt bit into his chest, forcing his breath from him. For a moment, he sat in stunned silence. ‘That was Her!’ It was like the worse case of déjà vu he had ever experienced. He sat there, eyes bloodshot and horrified mouth wide open. Another tear dripped from his chain, staining his blue shirt. He knew he had to be sure what had just happened, but he could not face it. He could not believe the cosmos could be so cruel that it would do this to him twice on one night. He found his mind drifting back to the woman he had just seen, noting the striking similarity to the one he had hit earlier. Slowly, the thought occurred to him. The two women were not similar. They were the same. They were identical.
All this time, he had refused to look back. He could not face seeing another body on the road because of him. Now he knew he had no choice. Slowly, his eyes met the mirror. There was no one behind. Save for the puddles of rain glistening under the golden streetlights, there was nothing. Mark could not believe it. He knew he had seen someone. Could he have missed her? Could it have been a trick his guilt-ridden mind was playing on him? There was only one way to be sure. He reached for the glove box and took out a torch.
The rain had turned heavier now. There was a chill to it. This was not a light September rain. This was a mid-winter downpour. Mark left his car, torch in hand, and headed back. He could see the skid marks on the road. He examined the ground around him, but there was nothing. There was no sign of anyone. Mark feared that maybe he had knocked the woman off the road, and so walked to the grassy verge. There was no sign of anyone. Mark’s mind was swamped in confusion. He tried to convince himself that he was seeing things. The first time he hit her he remembered feeling the contact of metal and flesh. This time, he could remember nothing. Reasoning with himself that his mind was playing cruel tricks on him, he turned back to his car. And there she stood. She was dead, of that he had no doubt. Her eyes had a vacant darkness to them, like coals deep from a pit. Her skin was like porcelain. Her yellow dress clung to her where the rain had soaked it. Her dark hair straggled down to her shoulders, partially covering her gaunt face. The hairs on the back of Mark’s neck stood on end. A chill ran from his skull to the base of his back. His shoulders slumped as his chest tightened. He stepped back and watched as she edged towards him. Her movements were not natural. She flickered like a projection. From nowhere, a bloody patch started forming over her stomach. She lovingly cradled her stomach with her right arm. She raised her left hand towards him and pointed. A trickle of blood flowed along her arm, seemingly defying gravity. A scarlet droplet formed on the end of her index finger and fell to the floor. Mark tried to back up further but tripped on a pothole, sending him tumbling. The shock snapped him back to the sober reality of his situation. He looked up to meet the woman, but she was gone. Mark studied the surrounding area, half expecting to see her next to him. She was gone. Without hesitation, he ran to his car.
The driver’s door flew open, forcing the interior light to offer it’s feeble illumination. Mark jumped in the car and slammed the door behind him. He was breathless and gasping, desperately trying to recover. His mind could not fathom what he had seen. He ran his hands over his face and through his rain slicked hair. He cupped his hands over his mouth, slowly regulating his breathing until it became slow and steady again. His eyes were focused on the centre of the steering wheel. He could not bring himself to look up. As his heavy breath escaped his lips, it appeared as a chilly mist. The sight froze him. The cold gripped him. Another breath came out, thick and foggy. His lips trembled as he looked at it. Then he felt it on the back of his neck. It was an icy breath. By reflex his head arched back to guard his neck. He felt the chill again, this time caressing his cheek. He could feel something there but he could not see it. On its own accord, his head began turning towards the backseat of the car. He did not want to look. He knew he could not handle what was there. Every drop of moisture evaporated from his mouth. He felt like he was chewing cotton balls. The smell of crisp air filled his nose. Slowly his eyes began focusing on the dark space behind him. He realized it was not nothing, but an absence of everything. Total blackness. Then the blackness moved towards him. Mark jumped back and gripped the car door handle, sending the door open. Mark was half falling out of the car when the light came on. There was nothing there. There was nothing in the back seat. There was nothing in the car at all.
Mark sat back into his seat and slammed the car door, locking it the second he could. He sat there panting. His trembling hands reached for the interior mirror. He adjusted it so he could see the back seat. A glimmer behind the car caught his attention. There she stood, mouth open revealing a silent scream. Panic set back in. he could feel the entirety of his body trembling. She took a step towards the car. His hand fumbled with the key. She came closer. He could see the hollowness of her deathly eyes. Through his tremors, Mark managed to grip the car keys and turn them. The car would not start. He cursed the vehicle and hit the dashboard. She was getting closer. He tried the keys again, but life was not forthcoming. He shook violently in his seat. Taking a deep breath, he tried the key once more. With a roar, the car sprang to life. Mark did not wait to see where she was. The car erupted forward. Mark did not look behind him. He could not dare look what he had left behind. Mark knew what he had to do. He knew how the guilt was going to chew him alive. He knew what his only option was.
The car pulled up outside the police station. The rain had stopped now, but the streets glistened from the downpour. Mark got out, shoulders slumped, eyes squared to the floor.
As he entered the police station, the bright lights momentarily blinded him. He knew this was the right thing to do. As he got to the front desk, the officer behind it asked how he could help. Mark turned his head to look out the window at his car. She was there again, sat in the back seat, smiling. Mark looked down and smiled. He knew he was doing the right thing.