Crash and Burn

"Am I even here right now or is this just a dream?" I think silently to myself.

I did not expect the day to end up like this. Believe me, I had many expectations for how the day would end — like us going to a romantic dinner, seeing a movie, and making out in the back of the theater like teenagers. Maybe we would just make dinner and cuddle on our couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, or even end the day in our bedroom making love.

The last scenario was my favorite because, after four years, I felt that I was finally ready to give up that part of myself. I feel like a failure because our relationship was nearly ruined by my fear and insecurities that always stopped me from going further, which led to problems.

Every time I forced myself to think that I was ready and took the initiative to kiss him, he never really asked if I was ready. Maybe he thought I felt ready, or maybe he was always just blinded by lust. But when I pulled away before we could go any further, the cycle of fighting would start.

We would first argue. Then he would storm out, saying he could always find someone else to satisfy him. He would slam the front door so loud that I could feel the vibrations pass through me, making me shiver. I would collapse on the floor crying my eyes out until the next day. Then David would walk back in, begging for forgiveness, saying he was a fool, that he should be more patient, and that he would wait for me even if it took an eternity. I would always forgive him and hate myself for not being able to give myself fully to the love of my life.

How foolish I was back then, thinking that I was always in the wrong — that I should be more intimate, that I was a failure for not giving up my virginity. But now I know he is the fool.

Well, I am the fool too — the fool who thought she would end the night feeling like the luckiest girl in the world, spending it next to the love of her life. But that wasn’t the case.

Instead of being the luckiest, I am the stupidest. Instead of being in bed with my boyfriend, I am in a fucking jail cell.

"What are you in for, girlie?" a tattooed girl with an intimidating stare says, with a creepy smile.

"I d…didn’t do anything wrong," I stammer, words sticking in my throat.

"That's what everyone says, darling."

"So if you want to sleep easy tonight, better tell me the truth," she says calmly, which scares me more. I can tell she isn’t lying.

"Well, I am in here because I accidentally lit my bed on fire with my ex-boyfriend's lover on it," I say, which, to be honest, makes me sound like a psycho ex.

"Didn't think you had the pussy to do something like that. Maximum respect," she says with a laugh, which makes me feel a bit proud even though I didn’t purposely do it.

I tell her my whole story since there is nothing else to do, and then she tells me how she got into prison — how she beat up a guy who tried to rape her, and since he was wealthy, bribed the police to arrest her instead of him.

"He sounds like a douche," I say, placing my hand on her shoulder. I feel that even though she looks mean, she’s probably the most loyal friend a girl could ask for.

"He got what he deserved — a broken arm and collarbone, plus busted balls. He ain’t knocking anyone up again," she says with a laugh, and I laugh nervously, thankful that I am on her good side.

"Hope when you get out of here, you make your douche pay too," she says seriously, and I nod, even though I know I am too weak to do anything.

"Hey, you’re free to go." A police officer comes out of nowhere, opens the door, and pulls me along.

"Wait, what’s your name?" I say to my cellmate.

"Sierra. Flinch," she says, waving goodbye with a wicked smile. I know deep down I will see her again, and I can’t wait.

"Why am I free?" I ask the officer as she pulls me along.

"The girl you assaulted and her boyfriend dropped the charges," she says, giving me a disgusted look. My heart aches at her words.

David reported me and made me out to be the psycho. How could he do that to me? Isn’t cheating enough?

My thoughts pause as I come face-to-face with my tormentors. Anastasia smiles at me while David’s face looks a little concerned.

"Babe, did we have to let her off today? She could have at least slept here for the night," Anastasia says.

"It would teach her a lesson for trying to kill me just because she lost you," she says, loud enough for everyone to hear, the implications clear.

I look at them and feel empty. I don’t have the energy to care. I am moments from collapsing from emotional overload, but I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me suffer, even though I am already in a pitiful state.

"That’s enough, Ana; she has been through enough today, so give her a break," he says sternly, then turns to me.

"I am sorry this happened. I know it was an accident. You shouldn’t have been locked up," David says, and I can’t help but scoff.

"If you knew it was an accident, why did you file the complaint against me? I’m sure I wouldn’t have been arrested if you guys didn’t call the cops," I say, glaring at him while he scratches his neck, looking away awkwardly.

"Alexia, I think you should go; we’ve all had a long day. It’s better we get some rest," he says calmly, as if talking to a child.

"What do you mean go home? Our house was on fire, remember?" I say, crossing my arms.

"They said the damage wasn’t that bad due to the fireproof walls, so Ana and I are going back home," he says slowly, looking everywhere except at me.

"So where will I go?" I ask, my voice breaking. This was my home — where I thought my children would grow up — and now that dream is gone.

"Well, I booked you a hotel, or if you want, you can call your best friend Mia," he says, handing me my car keys.

"I also packed your clothes and other stuff. You can come back to the house if I missed something you want." I can’t bear to look at him as he says those words, so I look at our surroundings — a huge mistake.

Most of the people there are staring at us. Some do it discreetly, while the rest blatantly watch the drama unfold. I’ll be damned if I let them stare at me like a circus freak any longer.

"Thanks for my keys. Today was not what I expected, but I guess there’s a bright side: at least I got to see that you are a grade-A asshole for cheating on me for four years, and with your fake sister no less."

"Well, at least I get to remove your disgusting self from my life."

"Feel free to enjoy the cupcakes I brought for your birthday. Thank fuck I didn’t buy you the watch you were eyeing a few weeks ago," I say, watching his face turn pale. I don’t feel happy or good — just sad.

"Goodbye, David, and happy birthday," I say, walking out before he can utter another word.

I rush to find my car and get in. The tears flow freely now that I am in the quietness of the vehicle.

I take a deep breath before hitting the gas and driving without looking back. Soon, I hear the soft taps of rain on my car, making it difficult to see the road.

I make a turn and hit something with such force that I am jerked forward. If it weren’t for my seatbelt, I would probably be screwed.

"Are you fucking crazy?" a deep voice shouts before banging on my window. I jerk at the noise. It’s still pouring outside, but the guy doesn’t seem to care.

I reluctantly get out, getting soaked as soon as I step out, and scream:

"I AM CRAZY, STUPID, FOOLISH — EVERY SINGLE UGLY NAME YOU’RE PROBABLY THINKING ABOUT, I AM THAT PERSON!"

"BECAUSE A NORMAL PERSON CAN HAVE THIS MUCH SUFFERING — THEY CAN’T DO SOMETHING SO STUPID TIME AND TIME AGAIN!"

"JUST DO ME A FAVOR AND GET BACK INTO YOUR CAR AND RUN ME OVER, ALRIGHT, OKAY?!" I shout before turning to him. His eyes are the only thing I can pay attention to — the most beautiful combination of blue and green I have ever seen, so lovely it takes my breath away, until his words bring me back.

"If you’re looking for a way to die, don’t get me involved. I’m sure you can find a bridge nearby to jump off or something. Just move your car so I can get going," he says, pointing at the car behind him that I collided with.

"So that was what I hit, huh?" I say, laughing. I don’t know why, but I lean toward him and look straight at him.

"This is by far the best situation I have found myself in, and I’d rather be here than back there, so don’t take me back." The words slur from my mouth as the world begins to tilt, and I feel myself falling.

"I can’t believe my luck. I ran into a crazy person," the man says angrily, holding me and stopping me from falling.

"You might not feel lucky, but I do," I say with a smile. He suddenly lifts me but is too weak to fight or ask where we are going.

He adjusts his grip on me, his voice low and detached. "You’re heavy."

I try to respond, but my voice is barely a whisper. He doesn’t seem to care; his expression is unchanging. Then he adds, "I’ll take you to the hospital."

As I feel myself slipping away, he says, "Wake up when we get there. I don’t want to deal with you any longer than I have to. You owe me, little phoenix."

A faint smile spreads across my lips as I whisper, "Okay…" And then everything goes dark.