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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A young hitchhiker finds out the hard way that running away from home can be very DANGEROUS.

Submitted: March 06, 2007

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Submitted: March 06, 2007






The oncoming darkness caused him to click on the Nova's headlights.

The speedometer read 70 mph.

He popped a Budweiser longneck, took a deep swallow; burped, farted.

Music pounded from the tape deck.

He hit the interstate doing 82 mph.




She opened her last candy bar, which looked hard, stale.

She huddled in the corner of a interstate reststop that reeked of urine, feces, vomit, stale beer, smoke.

She can also smell the oncoming rainstorm, had picked a bad night to run away. She wished she was inside a warm car, a cheeseburger in one hand and a soda pop in the other.

She took a bite of her candy bar; it was hard, stale. She spit it out, feeling nauseous. She hopes her parents are scared, thinking they deserve to be.



On the distant horizon he can see the rain coming.

The pounding beat of the tape player has suddenly stopped; a mild saxophone has kicked in. He hates sax music, only listens to it because his mama{God rest her soul}, taped it for him.

He loved his mama, even if she was a holy roller; but that's long ago and far away, now, and she is dead.

He hits 90mph.

  He thinks about what the priest told him in confessional; you have comitted graet sin, my son. You must ask for redemption, for killing all of those innocent people.

  But they shouldn't have pissed me off, he'd told the priest, right before he slit his throat. Raymond wished the sax would stop; it was pissing him off.




She sits inside the reststop bathroom now, trying to keep warm, the rain falling now, pelting the roof like bullets.

It's a lonely sound, she thinks, her bright green eyes welling up with tears. I'm lonely.

There is a payphone on the wall; she is tempted to pick it up, call home. yet. Let them worry some more, be scared. Scared like I was when my stepdad would get drunk, try to be real sweet to me..............touch me.

She hears a car pulling up outside, peeks out the window. She sees a young guy about her age - seventeen, eighteen? - taking a piss in some nearby bushes. He's not bad looking, she thinks, and has a nice car.

  Time to move, she thought. Get while the getting is good. Anywhere isa better than here, even with a total stranger.

She walks slowly out of the bathroom, lights a cigarette to get his attention in the semi-darkness. He sees the flame, zips up, turning slowly toward her, smiling his sexy, trademark smile, the one he's used so many times before since leaving home. The thief of hearts, the silver tongued-devil, master of lies; he's worn all of the masks before, and wore them well.


{I bet shes a cunt.....just like all the rest. But, shes cute, so what the hell? Got nothing better to do. .....................until later.........when I get PISSED OFF.}


{ Boy oh boy....did I get lucky or what?! Hes cute, too. So what the hell; I might finally get lucky for a change......}

The oncoming darkness, fate driving away into the night at 95 mph.

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