I stared at the road. I needed to focus. I needed to get where I needed to go. That should be the essentials and mannerisms of every driver, but I usually could care more about getting into an accident or not. Bearing a perfect driving record, it was always important to me. Not to mention it was snowing like **** outside. I was driving on the highway, headed outbound towards my sisters house in Forest Glen. She was having a party at her house, it was almost traditional to go over there every Christmas Eve to exchange gifts among the family, and I was late. My hand shook on the steering wheel, although I gripped it with choking force, my knuckles seeming almost translucent.
It had not been long since I had talked to my sister, I called her to let her know I was on my way, and I apologized for being late. Suddenly, my phone started to buzz in my pocket, the powerful vibration motors of my phone tickling my thigh. I grabbed it and answered it, not taking my eyes off the road to see who it was who was calling. I didn't bother to lower the radio; there was none on, I refused to listen to music while driving. It took away my focus.
"Scott?" I heard on the other line. "Scott, you there?" It was a woman's voice, most likely my sister's.
"Yes. This is Scott. Who's this?" I replied back, expecting the answer already.
"Scott. It's me, Rachel. Your sister." she said to him, annoyed.
"Yeah, whats up, Rachel?"
"Where are you? Junior wants to open up presents already, and Bob finished with the ham."
"Well, Junior can wait. Listen, Rachel, I'm driving. I should be there in a bit, the highway's not too bad. Maybe Bob could heat up some ham for me when I get there."
"Scott..." she sighed.
"Don't worry, I'll be there in a little." I answered, closing my phone with my chin, my eyes still glued to the road.
I went through an underpass and stared off to the side, a fire catching my eyes. A car was flipped over, and another car was smashed into the wall of the underpass. I slowed down to get a better look. It was a freak accident, both cars weren't even touching, the damages looking completely different. The flipped over car was just near an area of trees, a fence seperating the car and the highway. The other car remained in the the highway, halting a lane up, making traffic a little bit worse. The cops hadn't even arrived yet. A man walked up to the fence, his skin almost black with burns, and even through the thick snow, I could see his blackened fingers curl around the fence and saliva pasted onto his chin. His eyes turned almost scarlet with hunger, and I sped up, shivering and staring back at the road.
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