Short Story: Rabbit in Headlights
Posted by childofthehive | Filed under Original fiction, Short story
This is a short piece I wrote a few years ago for a university creative arts magazine. I wrote it as much as an exercise in emotion as a story. It’s an exploration of feelings of helplessness.
Rabbit in Headlights
Wind. Rain. Icy dampness on my face and exposed fingers. British weather numbing my extremities. It’s the fine rain that hangs in the air and soaks to the skin in a minute. I have no umbrella and my coat in not waterproof, so I am defenceless against the chill drizzle.
Cold, soggy steps along the pavement. I’ve given up trying to avoid the puddles. There’s a hole in my right shoe and my sock is completely sodden. I squelch with every stride. The water is seeping up my jeans, nearly reaching my knees already.
I have a few coins in my pocket. I could catch a bus. But where? I haven’t enough money to get far enough away. I can’t afford a train. I certainly can’t afford a hotel room for the night.
I can’t walk forever. I already know my destination. I’ll end up back where I started. Forwards, there’s nothing. Behind me, there’s him. I’m not sure which is worse. I keep going, putting off the moment of surrender. Perhaps I’ll dissolve into the rain. Wash away down the drains with my troubles. He wouldn’t miss me.
There’s the crescendo of a car engine approaching. Headlights loom over a rise in the road. Like the proverbial rabbit, I freeze momentarily. Then I hurry on, bowing my head in an attempt to be inconspicuous. I fight down the urge to run. But then the car is passed, sending a spray of muddy water over my legs.
I try to relax.
There are no streetlamps here and the lights of the town are hidden by bushes and the undulating landscape. It’s just me, surrounded by darkness under an empty sky. Even the hedgerow is barely visible in the gloom. I could be the only person in the universe.
Another car. I imagine the hope that it’ll be just like the first. It’ll drive past and become just a pair of red eyes fading into the night.
It doesn’t.
The car pulls up and stops a little way ahead. If I keep walking, I’ll just get closer. But there’s nothing to be gained if I turn around and run. The door opens and then closes again with an angry slam. He’s just an indistinct figure in the darkness, but I know he’s glaring at me.
“What are you playing at, you stupid bitch?” he demands. I say nothing. My hands are balled into fists inside my sleeves. A defence against the cold, but it would be so easy to hit him. A fist planted in that disdainful jaw. So simple.
I say nothing. No arguments. No excuses. No angry venom to answer his. I can give no reply but the mute tears mingled indistinguishable with the rain.
I feel every bit the idiot he thinks me as I walk to the car and open the passenger door. I do my seatbelt and stare out at the water running across the window. Tears for my pain. The world outside matches the world within; cold and grey. Empty of anything resembling warmth. My life is frozen. I know I’m standing in the path of pain, but I can’t find the strength to move away as the headlights bear down on me. The rabbit can’t fight the car and win.
Tags: Original fiction, Short story
