Rumor and Hearsay

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

A Million Miles Away

Clutch in. Click. Clutch out. Twist.

Sixty miles per hour, the freeway seemed clear enough, the sound of the engine was the soundtrack to the head rush that was coming.

Twist. Click. Twist


The sound of the quickening wind around him joined the orchestra. One hundred miles per hour. There comes a point when the dashed on the road become a solid line. The upcoming bend quickly approaching, James shifted his weight slightly to the right as the demon underneath him responded gracefully.


One hundred twenty miles per hour. "Give me more.". One hundred thirty, forty. Silence. The world around him stood still as he straightened out the front tire lifting slightly as he approached a group of cars. A smile crept over him as he shut off his headlight. Weaving left, right, split the lanes. Silence. he knows his heart is racing, but cannot feel it, he knows the air is trying to ship him off his machine, but failing. He seems the red of break lights ahead in the sweeping left curve, his light stays off. he was on the tail of the next car, closing quickly. that champagne colored...

His eyes widened, his heart skipped a beat, his body went numb. Deafening noise. That license plate, the make and model. It was her. Head shake, wobble, front end gone, air born. In this instant he saw everything, felt everything, fear. All in slow motion he saw the concrete and guardrail. He reached out as if he could touch it, then...

James shot up in bed, sweating profusely. His dog tags swung in front of his chest as he gasped for air, as if he were drowning. He wiped the sweat off his face with his shaking hands, the bottle of whiskey on the bed stand half empty. He reached for it and took a hard pull, the room was still spinning as he lunged out of bed towards the bathroom. His white knuckles clenching the toilet as he started throwing up, his face hot and red, he felt like his veins were going to explode. When it stopped, James pulled himself up to the sink, his eyes bloodshot, snot coming down his face. he tried to cool himself down with water and clean his face, he was still shaking, the room was still spinning.

The clock read 03:35

Two lines were waiting for him on the coffee table as he staggered through the living room, he stopped and stared at them for what seemed like eternity, then he sat down and picked up his hollowed pen. His eyes watered as he tilted his head back, the lines gone. James let himself stare at the ceiling as the room steadied, "I love you Roxy, you're good to me" were the only words he said as he pulled himself up and walked into his bedroom. Another pull from the bottle. He wiped his nose and could feel the drip in his throat. The flame of his lighter was the only light in the room, the glow of his cigarette was all that remained. That dream had been haunting him for weeks. Thunder roared, rain threatening on the outskirts of town.

Inhale. Exhale.


James opened a drawer in his night stand. The cover was black and white, the title, "A Million Miles Away...will you get this letter?"
It was what he had called his war journal, love letters to the one that held his heart.

As he opened the journal a picture fell out, they seemed so happy, complete, and perfect. Katheryn was gorgeous, an intoxicating smile, piercing green eyes. Her skin seemingly barely touched by the son, her Irish heritage evident. The picture was of her wearing his dog tags, covering herself with one arm. he could almost taste her lips again as he stared at the picture. He lightly kissed it and began reading... My Dearest Kathryn... as he read memories flooded his mind, he wanted the old days back, fragments of happiness from days gone by. he didn't even make it through the first pages, James slammed the journal shut and put on his fatigues and put on a white t-shirt. A small key was in his pocket and as he walked towards the front door he passed a pair of motorcycle helmets, he stopped for a second and looked at them, then picked up his.

Door open. Door closed. Locked

The beast awakened and he lit his last cigarette as the engine warmed up.

The pearl white beast under him roared as he flew down the freeway. The hair on my neck standing up as his skin was kissed by the frigid night air. Weave left, right, left, split the lanes. his eyes felt like they were bleeding as he passed a corvette in that cold morning. He tried to keep up, James smiled at the drivers ignorance as he shut off his headlight and tucked behind the windscreen, the car lost quickly behind.

A lightning bolt whipped through the air, a clap of thunder surely followed but he couldn't hear it, he was in a zone, he didn't hurt anymore. There was the car, that champagne color, those numbers and letters, the school decal. His body tensed, the sound of his addiction to speed deafening. The cold of the air, the rain pounding his exposed skin. He couldn't breathe, one hundred forty seven miles per hour. The front end started sliding, the wheel turned. High side, air born. He didn't want the last time he'd see her to be like this, the flash of headlights swerving as he hovered in the air for a lifetime, His bike tumbling in a pinwheel of sparks. Breathe James, breathe.

He relaxed, he exhaled slowly as he approached that page of concrete. He closed his eyes as he hit the ground.

He slowly opened his eyes to humming, a woman, it felt warm. He closed his eyes again as he heard footsteps leaving.

He awoke again, this time at night, he felt a cast, IV's, everything hurt, he wanted to scream but couldn't. As James scanned the room he saw a vase of flowers and a note that simply said, "My dearest James, I got your letter. ~K. Valentine." he felt a tear start to form in his eye as a figure walked in to his room and pushed a button. He soon didn't feel anything anymore as he faded into his medicated slumber.

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