Memory Lane Up In The Headlights Novels & Stories

‎ ‎but then I wasn't hearing the sound of his voice anymore, ‎ ‎so i tilted my head out of the space I hid, ‎ ‎scanning left, ‎ and right, ‎ ‎gently, I tiptoed my way out, ‎ ‎ ‎heads steady, looking behind, ‎ ‎till I bumped on a hard surface, ‎ ‎or was it? ‎ ‎—oopssss. ‎ ‎it was nemesissssssss. ‎ ‎and before I could react, ‎ ‎Lucas gripped me tightly to his chest,. ‎ ‎ ‎in one swift move, ‎ ‎ ‎and in his ever dark and vengeful heart, emptied the entire jar of milk right on my head. ‎ ‎ ‎i felt the thick liquid flow right from my head into my body, sticking my insides to the white tee.

Because that’s who I was — the guy who showed up, no matter what. So I drove. Fast. Reckless. My mind wasn’t in the car at all. One hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, my head filled with nothing but the memory of her laugh — low, warm, the kind that reached into your chest and stayed there. I thought I had all the time in the world. I didn’t. I didn’t see the headlights until they swallowed everything. A drunk driver. Swerving. Wild. Straight into my lane.

She trembles against him, shaken, clinging like she almost slipped through something permanent. Traffic slows. Horns blare. People gather. I don’t move. The memory hits me like a punch. Eastburn. Lila stepping too close to the road. Me grabbing her, dragging her back, both of us stumbling to the ground. Her breath shaky. My heart racing. The sound of horns behind me snaps me back. I blink. The light is green. I’ve been holding up traffic. I press the pedal and drive off, my elbow resting against the door as I run a hand through my hair. And just like that, her voice fills my head.

(Flashback) Blue I slowly open my eyes, the harsh light of the morning sun piercing through the car windows, forcing me to blink several times before my vision clears. I’m in the car, my back pressed uncomfortably against the seat, the seatbelt securely wrapped around my body as if to keep me from floating away. The realization that it’s morning snaps through me—how did I get here? My last memory is a blur until it comes flooding back with clarity. The incident from last night, the masked man, the horror, it all crashes over me. My eyes instinctively dart to the hotel in front of me,. Through the window, I catch sight of a police car parked outside. My heart skips a beat. For a moment, I pra

Adrian's Pov The city lights blurred into long, streaks of neon as I drove. I didn’t head straight to the club. I couldn’t. My head was spinning with the scent of that vanilla-soaked letter and the memory of the tears I’d just left on Lena’s cheeks. I pulled the SUV into a dark lookout point overlooking the bay and killed the engine. Silence rushed in, heavy and suffocating.

MILES’ POV My foot pressed harder into the accelerator, the vehicle surging faster despite the fact that it was already evening. Headlights streaked past me in both directions as I weaved through traffic without much regard for the actual rules of the road. I blew straight through a red light at one intersection, several surrounding cars laying hard on their horns in protest, but none of that registered properly through the storm raging inside my head. Horns, red lights, other drivers, none of it mattered right now. I was angry, furious in a way I hadn’t felt in years, and every part of me wanted an outlet for it.

I couldn't remember how I drove Mia Madre and Mila to her place and sped off to the Sottosopra. I was blinded by rage, slamming the accelerator until the needle on the speedometer jumped up past 90 miles an hour in a 40 zone. Traffic lights meant nothing to me as the video kept replaying over and over in the back of my head. Mila’s smile. Her ponytails. The way Luca used to do her hair when she was little. Everything replayed in my mind like a tormenting film.

- Mary Ann I looked at what’s inside the box one by one at most of them are the pictures of the two of us, including our monthsary’s and anniversary pictures. There are also poems and when I look at it all, my heart feels like it is being squeezed and my head hurts And like a river flowing, it suddenly returned. All the memories I had lost for two years. “Ouch!!! my head hurts!!!”- Mary Ann, I hold my head tightly because of the pain that is happening and like a miracle, all of my memories came back, everything Carl and I did before I remember that! also the accident! I immediately left my room to search for my family

he asked between seething pain that radiates from his banging headache. Pain lanced through his temple like a needle. The wheel jerked in his hands. “..No,” he hissed, trying to shove it down. But the memory came harder. Faster. An explosion. Shattered glasses. Blood. Heavy wind. Antonio's eyes went wide just as headlights flared in front of him–too close, snapping him out of the strange memory that entrapped him. He quickly yanked the wheel skillfully, screeching the tires as the car spin.

“It was a hit and run.” Lawrence’s grin sharpened. “Exactly.” My stomach turned to ice.You don’t remember—” “I do now,” she said softly, staring past me. Lawrence’s eyes gleamed with malicious joy. “Do you know why?” Evelyn swallowed hard. “I remember the headlights. The tires screeching. The man with blood on his forehead…” She looked at me. And then—so did everything else. The memory slammed into me like a train. It was the night after Angie died. I was speeding. I’d been drinking. I was running—grief, guilt, rage swirling inside me like poison. I don’t even remember what road I was on.