Work Text:
It was an accident.
He cursed the world.
He cursed the sun that was brightly smiling through the air, he cursed the wind that was dancing around the trees and he cursed the little wild flowers poking through the concrete because it was like the Gods were laughing at him, taunting him while the fog that clouded his mind hid away every rational thought and left him alone with all the guilt and grief and shame that had built up since he did what he did and inevitably started this whole mess.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He ended up on the graveyard, of course he did. That was the Gods' ways of making fun of him.
He'd hoped to end up on the playground, maybe, or the mall, or even a parking lot would be better than the fucking graveyard.
He hated this world.
He pulled the steering wheel around forcefully, swerving around on the - thankfully - empty road and he hoped They would recieve his silent 'fuck you' as he drove right back where he came from - away from the place that was filling him with so much dread that he might as well start digging his own grave himself.
And obviously They recieved his curse, because they sent him a 'fuck you' back, one that grew bigger and bigger the more the cemetery shrunk in his rear-view mirror.
Two streets down the first thunder crashed down on him.
Another 100 metres and the thunder came from his car's engine, making his heart skip a few beats before going in overdrive.
The next 25 metres were filled with quiet weeps as the vehicle continously slowed down and finally came to a stop inmidst an alley lined with wildly growing oaks, void of any human-like life.
For a few terrible moments he was alone with his thoughts, dark and terrifying, filled with doom and desperation. He had known what would happen. Why did he not stop?
Thunder violently shook the car right as a blindingly white streak of the Gods' anger crashed down mere 50 metres in front of him, sending one of the thick trees, cracking, screaming, flying down onto the street before him. The branches carved deep scratches into the glass of his wind shield and he covered his ears, cowered in his seat, shaking while the tears finally spilt through his clenched shut eyes and the sobs escaped his swollen throat.
It was as if They waited for him to break before They started the actual torture.
The first droplets were quiet but they gained monumentum with the second, and little sprinkles of water turned into thick drops of a downpour within few moments so that wherever he'd look, the windows seemed flooded like the car fell into a raging current.
The next lightning struck somewhere behind him but he couldn't hear if he was trapped now or not over the violent drum of the heavy rainfall on his cracking wind shield.
As he blinked through the tears to watch the water steadily drop onto his dashboard he knew he was done for.
He wished he had stayed and started shoveling, but he guessed it's coming to the same end anyways.
With shaking hands he fumbled with the glove compartment. The feather and the emerald stone inside seemed to be laughing at him as he shoved them aside to pull out the crumpled piece of paper and the blue-silver pen he kept in there.
For emergency spells, his grandma always said.
His sobs seemed to choke him as the wind outside started to shake his car, left, right, left, right. His feet started to get wet as more and more water flowed inside the car, a steady stream where the branches, driven by the winds, still punched cracks in the glass.
He jammed the edge of the paper between his thighs so that he still could write while he held onto handhold to not fall over as the wind abused the vehicle.
Dark clouds covered the sky now and it was almost too dark to see what he was writing, but neat handwriting wasn't a priority right now.
It wouldn't be ever again anyway.
His hand was flying and his tears mixed with the water as they dropped on his note and made it wavy like the little sea at the bottom of his vehicle as the wind continued to shake it, slower now but with even more force.
He knew the car would flip over eventually. Of course he knew. It was Their doing, and in Their books he had two choices; stay inside and either drown or get flipped over or maybe get stabbed in the heart by the shards of the finally breaking wind shield, or get out of this death trap and get struck by lightning, or get hit by a falling oak, or even get blown back into the car.
The end was inevitable.
He knew.
It was an accident, I swear.
It wasn't meant for him.