Forfeit Control

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 30, 2016

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Submitted: May 30, 2016

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The unrecognizable colored paint shed off like flakes in a blizzard. The curved doors were rusty and dented resembling a worn suit of armor. Dirt, rust, and cobwebs were the mark of 20 years of displaced care. Everything about the car was a bad buy, yet that's not what Thomas felt. He must have seen the problems, but he also must have seen something special in the car; maybe the possibility in it. Whatever it was, it was not apparent to anyone else. All anyone saw was a run down piece of crap missing a side mirror. Before he could even think about it Thomas laid the thousand dollars out and became the owner of a rundown 97' beetle.
Pouring down from the skies was a barrage of some far up  wrath in liquid form. Before he could even think about it he slammed the hood down with a creak that  sent a chill down his spine. "Five days five god damn day that's all" the whole engine was smoking, and Thomas was farther out on the autobahn then he had ever been. He prayed for a miracle, although he didn't care if that meant the car starting or bursting into flames. He slowly turned the key with the anticipation burning inside of him. Chick, chick, sputter the car roared to life. It sounded different, it was heavier and stronger than ever. With this change he felt free to keep moving. He entered into the car with a stern excitement. It felt as if he'd done it a million times. It was as if the pedal found his foot and slammed it down for him. He didn't creep up the speedometer he raced it, each second pushing harder. His toes went numb, he was pushing so hard. Surely there would be a bruise later. The car was part of him now he was only a passenger. The car sprinted like a madman down the road. He was screaming the engine as hard as it would go. There didn't seem to be a limit to his power in this moment. He roared by  at least half a dozen speed limit posts, but couldn't possibly have cared. He saw the turn, the fork in the road, the slow down and decide; but he knew there was no way that would be his desire. He pushed farther upwards to the edge of the road leading towards his path to the face of the rocky waters. Three were no worries in his mind, no stress, and no care. For Thomas only had one desire, to get too his undoubtable death as fast as possible. 


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