The snow falls on your black trench coat in the dark of night, the moon illuminating the concern pouring from your eyes, which just had your whole life flash before them as you watched the car in front of you skid into your lane, you not being able to move out of the way, the car continuing to move-
But you’re okay. You’re there, standing in the cold as snow dusts across your eyelashes, your trench coat, your hair. You’re okay.
Your phone buzzes, a text. When you look at it, you’re almost blinded. It reads “are you okay?”
You reply, “yea I’m fine. But the car isn’t.”
You look up to see your car smashed, totaled smashed. Shit. You think. This is not going to end well.
Your phone buzzes again. “Okay good. We can figure out the car later. What matters now is that you’re okay.”
“Yea. Thanks” You text back, your fingers numb from the cold.
“Stay safe. Love you <3”
“Love you too <3”
You pocket your phone and look up towards your car. The whole thing is smashed, totally destroyed. You’re gonna have to deal with insurance later and it will be a pain in the butt. But for now, you’re just concerned about getting home and being safe again.
Where on earth are the police? You think. Shouldn’t they be here by now?
You take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
“Ma’am?” A person asks.
You look up to see a man with dark brown hair in front of you. It swoops over his forehead. You think it looks ridiculous.
“Yes?” You reply, really not feeling like talking to people right now.
“Are you okay?”
It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
“Yea, I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Well you were just in a car accident and your car looks like you died.”
He was right. The car did look like you had died in it. Luckily, seat belts are a lifesaver. Literally.
“Yea but I’m okay.”
He nods his head. “Okay.”
It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
“You look like you’re freezing,” he suddenly says out of nowhere.
You look down at the ground, your legs in view. They are shaking. And your fingers and now, the palms of your hands are numb from the cold. You should really carry around gloves.
“That’s cause I am. But I really don’t need help. I’m fine. I just want to get home.”
“Okay,” he replies, putting his hands up in self defense. “I surrender.”
You give him a confused look.
“You what?”
“I surrender. I was offering to help you but you’ve made it very clear that you don’t need my help.”
“Oh.”
He starts to walk away. As you watch him, you realize...
“Wait!” You call out. He turns around, a smirk now on his face. You gesture towards your car.
“I don’t have any way of getting home.”
**
Sitting in the man’s car, you realize he might be a drug dealer. His car reeks of some smell you can’t quite place and...is that white powder on the floor or are you imagining things? You stare ahead of you and take time to think about what to do next.
What to do next:
1. Call the insurance company
2. Tell the kids you’re okay
3. Call off work?
4. Call mom
5. Call the insurance company again because they never answer the first time
“How are you?” The man suddenly asks, somehow still up for conversation even though you think you’ve made it very clear that you do not want to talk.
“Fine. I was just in a car crash but I’m alive so right now, I’m fine.”
“That’s always a good thing!”
“Yea.”
The car shakes with awkward silence. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
“Being alive is great!” He remarks almost to himself.
You nod your head. “Yea. It is. Hearing the birds chirp in the morning everyday, seeing people up early walking past me on my way to work, that one tree off 306 that’s always lopsided.”
The man laughs a low, earthy laugh that you can feel in your chest.
“Yea I know exactly what you’re talking about! My buddies and I named it Barbara.”
You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Barbara?”
His low earthy laugh still radiates in your chest.
“Yea. It was dumb but it was funny!”
I feel like that’s the definition for men. You think.
“I’m sure it was,” you reply.
“You just had to be there.”
His low earthy laugh still pounds in your chest. Why is it still doing that? It’s driving you crazy! You fidget with your ring, spinning it around your finger, causing a little pain as the ring was always a little too small for your finger. You lean your head in the iced over window.
It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
You stop and look up to see your house.
“How did you-“
“A man has his ways. Stay safe out there.”
You get out of the car as fast as you can. Maybe he is a drug dealer.
Things to never do
1. Die
2. Get in a car with a man you don’t know
3. Get in a car with a drug dealer (potential or not)
It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.
Halle (she/her) enjoys writing short stories and poetry and gets her ideas from random life experiences. When she’s not writing, she’s either watching YouTube or playing Animal Crossing. Her Twitter handle is @YaTheatreNerd. You can check out more of her work here: