Jimmy stepped into the truck with a case of beer in his hand.
Not that it was difficult - there wasn't a consciousness to the decision, nothing to worry him. He concealed the bottles by his left foot; nobody would see him take a sip from one. He wouldn't be drunk by the time he got home. No, it would take longer than that. He told himself that he knew what he was doing.
Lifting the bottle to his lips, Jimmy's other hand was positioned in the middle of the wheel, going through the motions that weren't even conscious anymore. A foot on the brake with a sudden burst of another car's lights in front of him, a glance into the rear-view mirror. It was habit; the car was a part of him. His shoe went to the accelerator as the car in front of him sped up, and a deep rumble sounded from within the truck. He smiled, took another swig of beer.
Light shone from behind the closed curtains of the living room when he pulled into the driveway. The door was locked when he turned the knob. He reached for his key; it wasn't there. He hadn't thought he would need it.
The front door was always unlocked for him.
Jimmy knocked a few times and waited. A shuffle of footsteps, and Melissa was behind the door. The lock didn't click open for him, but he could hear her there.
"You been out drinking?" she asked.
"Just one beer, on my way home. Mel, Let me in, come on."
"That's illegal, I told you that last time. I dunno if I want to let you in. You're mean when you're drunk."
"Dammit, Mel, I'm not drunk. Just the one beer."
"But you bought more, didn't ya?"
"Well, yeah, but I didn't drink all of 'em."
"But you will."
He slammed his fist into the door.
"God dammit, let me in. This is my house."
"Come back when you don't have that shit in your system."
Jimmy turned and stared at the street, at his truck. Then he twisted around and flung the bottle towards the door. A noise, almost a whimper, sounded from behind the thin slab of wood, from Mel.
"What the hell was that?" Mel's voice was more distant, as if she had backed away.
"Shit."
Ten seconds later, Jimmy was back in his truck, a bottle resting in his left hand as he pulled out of the driveway. Beer dripped down the front door into a small puddle.
***
"Momma, where are we going?"
A tiny, freckled face stared back at her as the woman twisted her head in the driver's seat.
"Didn't I already tell you?" She smiled, but the look was forced on the tired lines of her face. She turned back to face the road.
"I think you did, but I forgot."
"We're going to visit Grandma at the hospital."
"Didn't we just visit?"
"Yes, but we're going again. Don't you want to see her one more time?"
"No. I wanna go home and sleep."
"Close your eyes, then. It might be a while."
"Okay." The child's eyes were already closed, and the word was lost halfway through.
Ten minutes passed, twenty, thirty. Few cars drove past, only the occasional late-night bus or worker going home to their family.
"Momma, are we there yet?" The sound startled her, and she turned to see her daughter staring back once more.
"No, but almost. Be patient."
The light settled for a moment on yellow, then it switched to red.
"Look at the pretty lights, Momma."
"Do you remember what the red light means?"
"Stop?"
"That's right. And what does green mean?" she asked, just as the light ahead changed.
"Go!"
It was an answer and a signal, and the woman smiled when she pressed her foot to the accelerator.
"Momma, look!"
The girl's mother didn't have time to look before the truck rushed through its red light and pulverized the left side. First the mother, then the daughter felt the full force of the impact. Windows shattered, airbags flew open at breakneck speed. The minivan flipped, once, twice, a third time. Helpless limbs flew around the vehicle, uncontrollable with the tumultuous spasms of the car as it flipped through the intersection.
All fell silent and still a moment later. Two bodies hung upside down from their seat belts, pressed up against the ceiling, arms and legs contorted into broken angles. Blood dripped down from their silent figures, soon forming an impossible pool of liquid. It could have been a small puddle of rain.
If only rain were colored red.
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This is for a project of mine. I'm given a random word, and then I base a story off of that one word. This is the first, and obviously it's pretty short. By the time I was finished it was around 11, and I had school the next day. :)
Word #666 from wordcount.org: Easy.
Gender:
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