I live out in the middle of nowhere on my own. I moved out here something like three years ago to live with my grandmother after grandpa died, she passed on herself not a couple of weeks later and now I'm living in this huge, out of place old mansion by myself. To be perfectly honest, it gives me the creeps, but I don't want to sell it. There's too many memories from when I was a kid. The house is about hour away from the town I was born and raised in and with the town, everyone I know. I can make it there in something 40 minutes provided I'm riding on the highway, traffic is good, and I'm really hauling ass. On weekends when I don't have work to catch up on, I cruise into town and spend the evenings drinking and fooling around with my friends. I don't like sleeping in any bed but my own unless it's completely unavoidable. Because of this eccentricity I frequently find myself making the long, lonely drive back to the house at two and three in the morning and sometimes even later.
On my drive home I follow the highway right up until it ends. It's meant to go further but right now it's under construction; my exit is signaled by the white and orange road-blocks and the reflectors surrounding them. I pull off onto the ramp and make a right turn. From here the rest of the way home is a series of winding country back roads. These are actually pretty pleasant to drive during the day, but at night... Well, it's stupid, because I've driven these roads a million times, but driving them creeps me out. I saw this video once on the internet, it was some kind of short horror movie about these kids that got lost on these sorts of road and were killed. Their camera picked up the murders. It's stupid, but it really got to me, and the back roads I ride to get home make me think of it.
Sometimes when I'm driving on these roads, I'll get a car behind me. It's stupid, but I can never shake the feeling that they're following me. The roads are only one lane, they couldn't really pass me if they wanted to. Still though, I can't get the notion out of my head; I think about how easy it would be for them to follow me back to my house where no one else lives; even comes by, and do whatever they want to me. It's stupid, but if the car that's behind me is following to closely I speed up. Just start tearing down the road in an effort to get away from them. Sometimes, but not often, they speed up too, which doesn't do a lot to help my anxiousness. It makes me think of that story. The one where the girl is driving home from a school dance? And the car starts following her and flicking it's bright lights on and off? Then at the end you find out there was a murderer in her back seat and the person following her was turning the lights on and off to keep him from stabbing her while she was driving. So I check the back seat of my car. It's so stupid! I'm laughing just thinking about it. Ha ha.
If they're still behind me, and they speed up after I speed up and I can't get get away from them, I pull over to the side of the road and let them pass. It just makes me way too anxious to have them following me for so long out there in the dead of night. I'm a very careful person, so I always turn on the caution lights when I pull over to the shoulder.
Here's where it gets really stupid, you're going to love this. I'm freaking out at this point, you know? I'm just losing it. If the car passes me, I just take a deep breath and keep driving home. Sometimes, but not often, though, they don't. Sometimes, they see the caution lights flip on and stop. They walk up to the window and tap on it a couple of times. Saying something I can't quite make out, although I can hear an upward inflection in their voice. Probably a question. It's so stupid, I can't even explain to you how embarrassing it is to tell you this, but once I know they're in range, I unlock the car door and kick it open. Usually it catches them off guard and the impact causes them crumple to the ground, but some are quick enough to jump back, or savvy enough to keep their distance.
It's stupid, but once they're on the ground, or even if they aren't, I leap from the car and beat them with my bare hands. I really get in there, you know? Just waling on them. They cry and they scream and they beg me to stop and sometimes, but not often, I do, but never before they're beyond help. It's stupid, but the blood dripping from my fists gives me the courage to finish my drive home and I do. A lot of times, I'll even get another car behind me and do you know what? I don't even get scared!
