The Crash

The visions never leave me. I keep seeing the man appear in the headlights of my car. Screeching breaks and skidding rubber on asphalt. His scream.

Again and again, I hear his head smashing into the cold steel of the hood.

In the passenger seat, I remember Daniel waking to my screams, but in his drunken stupor, he had no idea what happened. With no time to think, I chose to lie.

I told Dan I had hit a deer. We drove on.

"Don't you think we should stop? The car sounds like shit." Dan asked.

I didn’t answer. But I remember his words were eating away at my resolve. I began to slow the car. “Dan, I... I … Oh God.”

“What? What is it?”

“We need to turn ar....” I suddenly saw lights ahead. It was a police traffic stop.

My heart sunk as a policeman waved me down.

I brought the car to a stop on the quiet stretch of carriageway just outside the city limits. It was a Friday night, and they were no doubt checking for drunk drivers.

One of the officers held a flashlight as he stepped up to the window and knocked on the glass. I remember I was burning up and could feel the sweat running down the small of my back. While I did my best to act cool as the officer checked my ID and license, I kept an eye on the other officer inspecting the car with his flashlight. My heart stopped as he dropped to his haunches in front of the Range Rover.

The next thing I knew, I was being pulled outside.

And that's when I saw it. The damaged front grill of the white Range Rover was spattered with flecks of crimson. Hooked on snapped grill panel hung a fragment of torn denim from the man's jacket.

Daniel tried to resist arrest and protested it was only a deer but was bundled to the road and beaten by two other officers.