Challenge · Writing

B is for ‘Blurred Vision’

Hello my wonderful cat people!

Today, I wanted to share with you a short story that I’d written for my creative writing course last semester. It was something I had to submit at the end of the semester as an assessment piece, and I hope you enjoy it. 🙂

I love you all~! ❤

MEOW! =^.^=

P.S. Apologies for the delay, I had a lot of stuff to do yesterday and couldn’t submit it on time. But expect another post later today. 🙂

~~~

The wind rushed through the car window and hit my face with a pleasant force. Outside, the trees became a green blur as Jake and I kept driving along the highway. Music blasted at full volume and I could feel the bass and drums pounding from the back of my seat. I looked over and saw him, smiling and shouting out of his window. It was then, at that moment, that we were the happiest in our lives.

The sun set on the horizon, turning the sky into a picture, as if the clouds were painted on in single strokes, and the rest was filled in with an explosion of pink, orange, auburn, and blue. This world still had something to offer me after 22 years of being on it.

My phone vibrated, making me lose focus of the painting outside my window. I turned to Jake and asked him to keep the volume down as I put the phone to my ear.

“Hi mum,” my voice quickly turned airy. The sudden realization that I haven’t told her yet had dawned on me.

“How are you, Rachel?” she sounded so happy to hear me speak, I could almost see a smile on her face.

“I’m good, just listening to music and studying for history.”

“Up to anything fun this weekend?”

“No, nothing really. Might go out.” The sky didn’t seem as magnificent as a few moments ago. It only became a dull mix of paints. “Well, I’d better get back to studying now, I don’t want to fail my exam on Tuesday. Bye, mum. I love you!” I hung up before she could answer me back.

For the next few minutes, I drowned out the soft beats of music and only focused on the sound of my own thoughts.

“When were you planning on telling her, Rachel?”

“Jake,” I turned to look at his angered face. “Let’s have this conversation later.”

“Oh, sorry. Is now not a good time?” He spat his words at me, and I could feel myself shrinking into my seat. “When else were you going to tell your own parents, especially your mother, that their daughter had gotten married with her now husband and was heading off on a honeymoon for the weekend?” He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, with drops of sweat dripping down his face.

I wanted to reply, but words kept getting stuck at the back of my throat. We both stared out the window, not paying attention to the trees that were losing their shape even more. I felt the cold caress of silver on my ring finger more than ever.

“I was going to tell her, Jake” I began, words finally coming out of my mouth in a hushed voice. “I just didn’t know how…”

“When will you stop with your pathetic excuses, Rach? I am tired of the constant lies you’re telling me! Why wouldn’t you tell your parents?” He paused to think for a moment. “Is it because of my past?” I still couldn’t answer.

The one thing I knew of his past, his involvement with drug dealers, was only thanks to me volunteering at the police station last summer. Of course, as soon as I told my mother that I was dating an ex-criminal who served his time, she couldn’t help but freak out. So it was easier to keep her from knowing about my new husband.

We kept driving in silence, and soon we reached a petrol station. By then, heavy dark clouds have spread over the clear sky, covering up the beautiful night lights, which kept me company during the awkward ride. Rain began pelting onto the car after a while. It, too, had kept me company and was talking to me more than my husband, who started driving again.

I wanted him to look at me, even once, before we got to our hotel. But he kept his cold gaze on the road, which I couldn’t see much of anymore. The rain continued to blind the windscreen, but Jake kept driving, faster and faster.

“I never wanted to marry you this quickly, you know,” his words almost echoed in the car. And I pretended I didn’t hear them. When he finally looked at me, he couldn’t notice that the car suddenly swerved off the wet road. It hit a tree with a vigorous force. In a matter of seconds, my body, and Jake’s, were pushed forward and slammed the airbags. After that? Black.

 

The first thing I remembered after waking up was seeing my mother sitting next to my hospital bed. She read a book as she regretfully told me how lovely her cup of tea was before the police called her. I wanted to turn to her, but the pain in my side reminded me that I couldn’t.

After a while, she stood, came over to my bed and towered over me, her long shadow cast to the back of the room. Her eyes suddenly sparked with anger and then, in a few brisk movements, her hand went up to the ceiling and came down with a sharp force. I felt a stinging pain in my right cheek, but I didn’t want to protest. Maybe I deserved it. She sat down again, and started reading silently beside me as I lay there, tears flowing down my face.

“I’m glad, honey,” she told me after a while, “I’m glad it was him and not you.”

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