Maps.

"Are you sure that's the right way?" I honestly don't know how to read maps. The best I can do for you is fold them up, and toss them into the glove compartment. The lines for interstates blended with streets. I looked for block H-8 while he drove, and it wouldn't have made any difference if I turned the map upside down. This array of lines seemed right. "I think you make left at this next light..." I looked up to find we were stopped by a train passing through. "You mean /this/ light?" He asked me with a look of anger in his eyes. He tore the map from my hands and I resumed my usual position: hands folded in my lap, and holding my tongue. Once he had a second to scan the map, and the last of the train passed, we were able to make it to our destination.

It was like a figment of my imagination. My forehead was pressed against the window, watching the scenery as it rolled by. In the darkness I had a hard time telling the shadows of the figures, but it was all the same anyways. As we drove on, I noticed a faint glow from the corner of my eye, and on my side of the road was the only lamppost for miles. It was the first time my eyes could absorb additional light and I had to shut them for a second for the harshness. As we whipped past, I could distinguish a vague figure, holding a briefcase and wearing a hat. I turned in my seat to watch as he shrank into a little dot encased a halo of light. Who was he waiting for? It seemed like an odd place for a bus stop, but I wasn't from around here and probably wouldn't know any better. I wondered what could be in that briefcase of his. Important documents? Money? Or maybe pictures of his life because it passed too quickly he'd never be able to keep up. A few polaroids to capture the spontaneous moments, and a few to instill a memory forever. Maybe I'll keep a briefcase like that.

I slowly opened my eyes to find the front end of the car almost to my eyes, and felt a dull pain in my right temple. I wondered why we were in a ditch. To my left, he was already gone, and for a second I thought maybe he'd gone through the windshield, but it was still intact. As I turned around I noticed he'd already climbed out and was on his phone. He seemed to be fine, but he always hid his true self from me. Not that I was worried about him, he always made it alright. I undid my seat belt and climbed out from the car, and the ditch to join his side. He ignored my presence at first, then finally said, "Help's on the way." I simply nodded, then sat down on the side of the road. No one ever came out here, so I wasn't worried about the traffic not seeing me. I was sure that any help coming might take a while, so I decided to work on remembering what happened last. I could vaguely remember looking away from my window post to notice a rare traffic light intersection. He was slowing down, so I think it was a red light. But if we had stopped, we wouldn't be here. So the light must have turned green. From the left came a dark turquoise truck racing towards us, and seeing as we slowed down, I'm sure the truck must have slammed into our small car. We went from moving forward to spinning and a grabbed a hold of the dash, my knuckles white from the pressure of my grip. As we landed in the ditch, I must have hit my head from the sudden stop from motion. I wondered about any injuries he sustained from the initial collision. And I noticed that the turquoise truck was nowheres in sight. A hit and run? Not surprising because we /were/ in the middle of nowhere. In the distance I picked up the faint sound of a siren. Surely not a warning for traffic but a relief signal for us. I looked up to see his hand in front of me, and I gladly took it. He helped me up and pulled me into a hug, something I wasn't expecting but I was really glad for. He held me like this until the ambulance and police arrived, and I knew that everything would be alright.