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Jazz filled the car, the calm flowing symphonies lifting Chris high. His mind swam through the emotions and thoughts of what had passed, he saw the blue and red lights of the ambulances on Quai Gustave Ador. the sounds of the men fighting for their families. These thoughts swayed with the music dipping then rising with the saxophone. He thought of the good, seeing his girlfriend in her blue dress, witnessing the snow and feeling it for the first time. A smile danced across his face as he thought his eyes wandering to the passing landscape outside.
Then it stopped, the last base note was strung, … his smile gone. His eyes glossed over. Unfocusing then focusing again on the figure lying in the back… the warm body of a girl in a blue dress. It made him hungry… and angry. The rage building up, what was he doing? He tried to turn and reach back, lunging but something was stopping him, it tightened again and again.
The car started to tug to the right, snapping Chris from his trance. Confused he regains control and continues, scratching at his arm… blood, the bite… hungry. He couldn’t think straight. He looked at his girlfriend as she lay in the back seat… needing to eat. He let go off the wheel grabbing his head, it felt like it was being ripped in two screaming he shook his head. He swung around shaking with pain.
His elbow smacked the wheel sending the car careening down a dirt road. The tires pick up more speed as its driver pushes their foot harder on the accelerator. Trees snap and warp with the car’s force. As it flies down the angled road it slams into the tray of an unfortunate lady’s truck. The vehicle flies like a bird up in the air looking for a place to land, its nest found and it begins its descent. Its landing is as graceful as its driver's manic state.
As the vehicle landed it slammed into a tree as old as the road itself, glass flying in a spectacle of light, patterns only seen in that fleeting moment danced across the ground gracefully. One last song playing, a peaceful melody. other worldly voices filled the twisted metal of the car bringing Chris up with it, taking him away from the life that awaited his body.
The driver's door had been ripped right off by the force. The driver pulled itself from the car and stood up. Whatever it was.. It was no longer Chris, its leg broken and impaled and its face, the jaw only hanging on by a few pieces of muscle, thick blood seeped from its wounds soaking into the ground. As it dragged its mangled body away from the car it never glanced back, never recognise or acknowledge the battered but breathing body of the girl still strapped into the backseat.