Idante 

She was hardly responsive. Her eyes fluttered shut and then sprang open, her words slurred before trailing off completely. She continuously leaned forward then jolted upright. I wondered if she was on drugs. She didn’t seem like she was in control, nor did I peg her as a user. Her features were sharp in the shadows though all of them were slack. I thought I should say something, maybe ask if she’s alright. If she dies I can’t just dump her off at her destination, the least I could do was make sure she could get out of the car. I thought about taking her to the hospital. I’d stay there until she could go home. I’m willing to make the upgrade from driver to guardian. I’d guess everyone’s ailments in the waiting room and hope hers wasn’t fatal. I felt bound to this girl, an intensity you don’t find in a few minutes of half conscious small talk. No, It was something else. Maybe her beauty was affecting my perception and that is to say she was beautiful. Her skin was hot coffee on a second brew, cacao colored eyes the shape of almonds, nose like a dollop of cream and lips like a valentine's chocolate heart. Perhaps that's what it really comes down to. This is my hero to the  ‘damsel in distress’ moment. It seemed like she was in deep distress. Tension filled the car. It was so heavy and thick I suspected none of my words would make it to her. 

I chose them carefully, trying to avoid provoking a defensive response. I asked her if she was trying to sleep. She softly said no and shook her head. Although it was obvious, I pointed out it seemed like she was sleeping. She jolted once again and told me she was up. Not after long she was down again. When I asked if she was alright I let it be known I was concerned. She came back up and began murmuring, seeming to be speaking more to herself than me. What are you saying?

“He wouldn’t…to me….couldn’t…so fucking horrible”. 

The statement expanded over all the previous tension in the car and replaced it with dread. I didn’t press any further, just looked straight ahead. The words hung there and neither of us made an attempt to cover them up, much less dismantle them. I should’ve asked for her consent but I didn’t. She was slumped over fully now and ceasing to respond. I just went ahead and ended the ride, routing us to the nearest hospital. Not before screenshotting the ride. My foot came down as I leaned forward, concentrating on flying between the lines. 

Elyssia 

I came to in the backseat of a car. Instantly I saw my legs painted in red. To my surprise the car was coming to a slow stop. Sirens filled my ears. Wincing, I sat up. Where was I? My head is light and there’s that man in the front seat. He hasn’t noticed I’ve woken up so I consider touching him. A gentle gesture to let him know I was no threat, there was no need to hurt me. I was confused, my mind muddled and groggy, where the hell were we? It was a fluorescent red too bright to my left and a dense darkness to my right. I lifted a hand to shield my face reflexively and the sudden movement alerted him of my consciousness. He turned, wrapping his hand around the passenger headrest. The cab driver, of course. His body was fully angled toward me. We stared at each other just like that for a few seconds. 

Idante: We’re at the hospital. You said something horrible happened. 

Yes, to the left. The red lights are being projected from the EMERGENCY ROOM sign towering over us. I couldn’t even process what he had just said. Hospital? Who was this guy to take me to the hospital? God, did I look that bad in the backseat? Regardless, I did not want to be here. At this moment I didn’t even want him to look at me. 

Elyssia: I don’t remember saying that. I don’t remember falling asleep either though. I’m still pretty drunk. 

Idante: You seemed a little more than drunk, you’re shaking even now.
 
Elyssia: I don’t remember saying anything actually. 

I shifted uncomfortably. What happened wasn’t particularly horrible. I’ve been living in a perpetual state of tragedy and horror. I’ve died too many times to count now. It was horrible, of course it was horrible. But what could I do about it? The time to protect myself slipped from my hands.

Idante: We should go in now that you’re awake.
 
Elyssia: Why?

Idante: You really don’t seem okay, mentally or physically. I can see welts from up here. 

Redirect.

Elyssia: Don’t you know you’ve abducted me, this is almost a textbook example. You were supposed to take me home and no offense, if you’re going to meddle in passengers' lives, you should consider another side hustle. Most people don’t take kindly to this, especially me. It’s time to take me home. 

This little back and forth was giving me anxiety. I could feel my heart pressing up against my sternum, I placed my hand there instinctively just to feel in control. I am awake now. And on guard. Why is it that my ‘no's' mean nothing? Can I be any clearer? I am being looked in the face and ignored. 

Idante: I’m not meddling. I’m helping. 

So he can hear but not listen. Great.

Elyssia: I didn’t expect my driver to be a superhero.
 
Idante: I like to think I’m just a good Samaritan.

Idante

This rapport was entertaining but I wasn’t getting any closer to the bottom of this whole thing. Something I felt obliged to do. This isn’t just something I can move on from. This girl needs help and if I can, I will. Something about loss and the sky. It’s so selfish. Taking and expanding, seeming to only inhale. There are so many things it will never give back. Stars sizzle, the cells die and we ascend. Oftentimes too soon. I had a sense she was fizzling out. 

The ER lights fell onto her face. I turned to face her as soon as she woke up and I couldn’t help studying her with the opportunity to get a good look. It was all in her eyes. The shadows brought out their sunken nature and I saw them as they were; hollow. I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath before starting again. 

Idante: It’s 2am. We still have to cross the bridge and you’re, no offense, a disaster. You look like your eyeballs are about to roll out of your head. 

Elyssia: If you had stayed on the designated route the trip would’ve been over by now. Anyways, what are you suggesting?

Idante: You can sleep at my house.

Elyssia: You’re turning out to be no better than that creep. 

I’m assuming this was supposed to be a sly dig hidden beneath her breath but the jab felt deliberate, though I had no context. Just the association with being a creep. Which is not the first time I’ve come by this opinion. Kindness is just a mask for a plotted demise. I can’t extend a hand without it being turned over and over again. So far, she’s more than turned it, she’s sniffing it like a hound, looking for one whiff of ill intentions. 

Idante: Is it really a crime to care?

Elyssia: It's irrationally kind. There’s something you want.

Idante: Look, I don’t know what happened but you seriously need to stop growling at me. I’m trying to help you, which is now concerning my better judgment. I’m not an evil creep, wherever you got that notion. You’re lucky I’m not carrying you into the ER kicking and screaming. I’m offering you the opportunity to rest. You can call another cab you know. I can call one for you and pretend none of this ever happened. I never met a girl in clear distress who refused help because she’s scared of confronting whatever distressed her. I offered what help I could, my conscience is clear of your future fate. 

She looked uncomfortable as she shifted off of the door. 

Elyssia

It was traumatic but I’d lay in his bed anyway. The idea was no longer unfamiliar. 

On a changa trip I had laid down in a stranger's room and watched the world grow solid. the bars beneath the top bunk solidified, the atoms bonding tighter together while the shadows fell into a never ending darkness just pushing the bars further onto me. On the bottom I lay with a man I had met once before. My body was so heavy I feared I was falling into a shadow. He climbed on top of me, men with their keen observational skills. The world suddenly frosted over. Not only was I gone within a shadow, I had gone numb. A block of ice free floating through space. One could consider me an asteroid. Hurtling and burning and crashing painfully slowly and then all at once. Or maybe I’m more of an Icarus type. I couldn’t spare an ounce of warmth yet people fought their way in again and again just to heat their hands in my kiln. Smoke blew out of my mouth as their weight fell on top of me over and over again.