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message 1: by Nathan (new)

Nathan | 19 comments SEND


Jenny isn’t sure whether she’s had a genuine psychic flash, or whether it’s just plain, old worry. She’s been anxious about her daughter driving at night before, but nothing like this. Nothing so specific.
Pine needles splayed over the crumpled bonnet of her blue Mazda.
When Jenny usually worries about Kayla it’s vague thoughts she has; formless, dark things that keep her awake while Dave snores beside her.
She stands at the window smoking a cigarette. All the lights are off and her sons and husband have been in bed for hours. She peeks through the blinds and the orange street light hits her face, sharpening the worry lines around her eyes.
Jenny flicks cigarette ash into the beer can on the coffee table and paces the room, knowing, even in the dark, where to avoid tables and sofas.
She’s OK. You’re just being stupid. She’s eighteen now and if you coddle her like this she’ll never grow up.
Jenny drops her cigarette into the can, hearing the shhh as it gets extinguished by the beer dregs.
She turns and looks at the fridge. The kitchen window has no curtain or blinds, the light that spills into the room highlights the fridge. There’s a photo of Kayla, standing in front of her new car, her mouth curved into a small smile, the future written in her eyes.
Bloody Dave. Shouldn’t have promised her that damned car. He bribed her. Do well in VCE and you get a brand new car. And Kayla had done well, grades good enough to do whatever she wanted at University. But it didn’t comfort Jenny. Right now she wanted Kayla home, in bed, that bloody car in the driveway.
Pine needles splayed over the crumpled bonnet of her blue Mazda; Kayla’s dead face etched with cuts and glass and blood.
‘No.’ Jenny sits on the edge of a sofa and tries to stop herself from shaking. Don’t be stupid, she’s alright. And don’t call her, you promised.
Jenny’s handbag is on the coffee table. She rummages around in it and fishes out her phone. She slides the front up and the numbers are highlighted in blue. She puts it on the table.
‘But if I know she’s OK…’ She closes it again, hesitates, then opens it.

Kayla really didn’t want to leave Ryan like that, with those harsh words. But he deserved it. She presses harder on the accelerator pedal. If he could just get it through his thick skull that I can’t stay here forever.
Breep, breep.
And he knows how I want to go to the city to study.
Breep, breep.
Kayla reaches out to her handbag on the passenger seat.
Her hand touches lipstick,
(no)
tampons,
(no)
brush,
(no)
phone.
‘There you are.’ She looks at her phone as she brings it out of the bag. She wants to see if it’s Ryan calling, because if it is she’s not going to answer, not after the way he –
She didn’t see the turn. Or the pine tree she was driving into.


message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

.o.


oh.

Wow.


message 3: by Nathan (new)

Nathan | 19 comments Thanks, Julane.


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