A stressful sleep held me as we rode for a few hours. It released me when the truck came to a rushed halt. I rolled into one of the rusted sides and the jagged edges cut my skin. Small bubbles of blood began to form while I watched, waited, and hoped that I would bleed to death.
The man slammed the door and yelled, “I gos’ta relieve ma’self. You kin go round there to that tree if ya gos’ta piss. I won’t be long.”
A few minutes passed before I moved. My body was stiff and I realized that during my sleep I had urinated on myself. The back of my dress and my panties were damp. My vagina was rotten with the smell of slow death, but he would want me again. I sat up and stretched, and peered over the side of the truck looking for a water source. The sound of loud voices startled me and I crouched down again as not to be seen. Next, a sound that could be compared to thieving horse hooves trying to catch up came towards the truck. The disorder grew louder as they got closer.
“I ain’t stole nuthin’ from yo ‘stablishment! Fuck yah’ll!”
I heard the man’s heavy breathing as he ran to get back into his truck. I never noticed the sound of the keys before, but this time they jangled loudly as he fumbled to thrust them into the ignition. Godly fear forces you to pay attention to your surroundings.
The engine rumbled as his foot slammed down on the gas pedal. I fell back hard against the side of the truck and covered myself from the rocks and dirt the tires threw up as it sped off. My body was under attack again and all I could do was the minimal to protect it. A moonshine jug tried to force its contents into my brain by knocking me in my head as I struggled to keep my balance. Our getaway vehicle rode hard, swerving all over the road trying to escape. Running without reason is a reason to question your choice. The choice that I had made was today was the day that I would die; why I made that choice was the question that I could never answer. The sound of a shotgun made me realize my domino effect was in full throttle.
“Shoot his niggar ass! Hurray up…he’ll git away!”
The man cursed his hunters and I cursed the day I was born. Then I heard three more shotgun blasts. I balled my body up and began to cry.The truck’s engine let out a sound of anguish as it tried to travel at a racetrack pace. The shell from the shotgun crossed the finish line before the truck did. As my body was thrown and rolled over and over, I saw the casing enter through the small back window of the truck. It hit my chauffer, which caused him to drive into a direction that was worse than the unpaved road. I felt my body rise from the unsecured base of the back as we went up in the air. This happened after we hit a mound larger than the truck could handle.
The truck began to turn on its side and I began falling out. My hands reached desperately for the ragged edges and the blood bubbles opened up. There was no need for me to try and hold on – death was going to catch me.
On the first air flip I fell out. I slammed to the ground and rolled and bounced revolutions of pain. When I stopped blood welcomed me along with a muted throb throughout my body. My head lay to one side and through the clouded dirt I saw the truck continue to tumble over twice more and land on the roof. The wheels were spinning faster than they ever would if they were on the ground. I turned my head to face the heavens. The sun parched my half living frame and I thought that death didn’t do a good job of catching me. Then I thought who remembers how they died if they are dead.
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