Writer's Cramp WINNER - 2/16! Alone and afraid, Sarah must make a terrifying decision...
|"Can't wait to see you, Sweetie. Be sure to buckle up and drive slowly. Its supposed to be pretty rough later on in the evening. They're predicting a foot/foot and a half by morning," Sarah's mom says as Sarah packs for the trip.
"I know Mom, I know." Always the procrastinator, Sarah is running around her dorm room, looking for her left black heel. "Gotta go, Mom. Love you."
Tossing her cell phone on the bed, Sarah drop to her hands and knees to search under her bed, flinging back her comforter to better see what lies beneath. "Gotcha!" Sarah cries triumphantly, dragging out the missing shoe. Tossing it into her suitcase and zipping it closed, Sarah grabs the bag and heads out the door.
"Ahh come on!" Sarah Lester is on a long journey home from college for Christmas. She sighs in exasperation as she tries - and fails again to find anything decent on the radio. Snow is falling hard as her windshield wipers kept up a 'thunk-thunk' rhythmn that Sarah knows will possibly lull her right off to sleep if she isn't careful.
Remembering her case of CD's in the passenger side floorboard, Sarah, keeping her eyes on the road, reaches aimlessly for the case. "Ack!" she grunts, as somehow it is just out of reach. Glancing to her right, into the floorboard to spot the case takes only a second, but it is just enough for her to veer off the road, and into the right-side ditch.
Vroom, VROOMMMM. Sarah, frustrated and angry at herself for being so careless, tries repeatedly to spin her way out of the ditch, only to dig herself in deeper.
"I'll just have to call for a tow," she sighs - and then a sickening realization hits her.
"No...NOOO!" She digs frantically inside her purse, pats her pant and coat pockets wildly. Then her stomach seems to drop as she simultaneously remembers tossing her phone onto her bed - and the road sign announcing, "NEXT GAS - 5 MILES."
Snow pouring down; Sarah becomes scared, trying to figure out what to do. In tears, she screams out when there is a sudden knock on her window. Shaking, Sarah sees a young man with dirty blonde hair and a scraggly beard and mustache, standing by her door. Wearing only a thin tee-shirt and jeans, he seems oblivious to the cold.
"Hey, ma'am, can you come out of the car? I need some help, please," the boy, no more than eighteen, says.
Sarah just stares at him numbly, frightened. Suddenly she notices blood on the front of the boy's shirt. Maybe he really is hurt...
"Listen lady, I need you to get out of the car."
Sarah shakes her head emphatically, eyes wide. His face becomes dark with rage.
"GET OUTTA THE CAR!!" his voice thunders.
Afraid he will break the window and drag her out, Sarah decides to appease him and gets out of the car - just in time to see headlights and a dump truck barreling around the curve. Sarah throws herself toward the left-hand ditch as the truck rear-ends her car, which crumples like a tin can upon the explosive impact.
It is only after deputies and paramedics arrive that Sarah realizes the boy is gone.
"Yeah, that would be Luke Wooding," the deputy says.
"He died a few summers back, hit by a drunk driver while riding his motorcycle, right here in this same curve. Believe it or not, you're not the first he's saved...", Sarah heas as she slides into unconsciousness.