Damian Goes for a Drive


             Damian decided that his life at home was getting dull and the last thing he wanted to do was sit on the broken loveseat alone and watch the television static.  He flung a knife at the tv on his way out of the room and it jammened itself deep into the cracked glass as he slammed the door.  His black corvette was looking sleeker than ever, beaconing him for a speedy drive down an abandoned road somewhere on the outskirts of town.  He opened the drivers side door and slid into the black leather interior, smoothe, clean, and flawless.  His skull key ring dangeld from the ignition as he inserted and turned the key, letting the engine roar to life then purr like a kitten as he backed out of his driveway.

                The trafic he passed was as usual...slow agonizingly slow...he layed on the horn and tail gated the slow soccer-mom van in front of him.  When she turned right, he floored the gas, speeding and weaving through traffic to get to his destination.  Taking a left turn he sloppily lost control of his steering-wheel, only for a second, then gained full control once more.  The leaves flew out from behind him and caught his attention.  As he looked into the rear view mirror, he didn't see that he was approaching a sharp turn.  His black eyes flicked to the road in a panic and he slammed on the break, sending the car flipping and spinning out of control.  It finally stopped when it was lodged between two trees upside down.  

                Hanging upside down by his seatbelt, bleeding, he groaned and shed a tear.  His car, his beautiful car...demolished.  The engine sputtered and ignited a spark upon the leaking pool of $3.55 per gallon gas.  A fire of rage engulfed the vehicle around him.  He cried, not for his life, but his most prized possesion.  He didn't even try to save himself.  He was going down with his baby. His red and black striped shirt sleaves caught first, and as he dangled from his seat, he decided to turn back. He flailed and swatted at the flames but failed miserably.
His cries echoed through the woods as he bruned alive and alone. The only thing he died with was his loneliness and his material item...nothing more...nothing less...Alone...Bold...Cruel...Uncaring...like his demise...

                  Heaven wanted nothing to do with him...Hell despised him...he was sent back before punishment could take place...he regretted nothing and lived his life again...everything was back to "normal" and he was still alone...He sighed and turned he static-tv on.  It was a great day to be indoors, he thought...great day to be alive...he smirked.