Exceptional I always thought I had plenty of time... Joy Ride by Dean Kuch Lost - Flash Fiction writing prompt entry

Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong language. Joy Ride   Jesus, the silence is suffocating. Where am I? We was talking a second ago. Randy lit up that fat joint, started passing it around the car we boosted. I told 'em, 'hell no, I don't use drugs.' I ain't no Saint, don't get me wrong, not by a long shot. I do my fair share of drinking and swearing. What the hell happened to Randy and Billy? I seem to remember a tree, then sounds of glass breaking. But, how did I end up out here, out on the road? What sort of sick joke are they tryin' to pull on me now? Those two... When Webster put the word "TROUBLE" in the dictionary, he had them idiots in mind. I'm tellin' you the honest to God's truth. Last time they pulled some crap like this, it took me an hour to figure out where I was, and twice as long to get home. They run off and left me in the middle of BFE. I wasn't too happy about it, neither. I let 'em know how unhappy I was once I finally got back to town. After the ass whuppin' I give Randy, I didn't figure they'd ever pull this kind of stunt on me again. But, here I am, out in the middle of nowhere. I can hardly see two feet in front a' me with this mist rollin' in. They must've put me out by a lake or somethin'. I shouldn't a' dozed off, but that liquor finally got to me. Not the cheap stuff neither, it was Gentleman Jack. I don't do cheap booze no more 'n I do drugs. Hold on, there's somethin' up ahead. It's Randy's car, the bastard! "Randy, I'm gonna' beat your skinny ass again when I"... Wait... wait just a damn second. He ran the car into a tree. "Serves you right, you stupid bastard! You just wait 'til I get up there. You're gonna wish you was..." Dead? They're both dead? Oh, Jesus, I didn't mean — Who the hell is that layin' beside the car? Nuh-uh, it can't be; it just ain't possible! He looks like...like... Dear God, he's bleedin' bad — real bad. He's not... "Hello? Who the hell are you? Your eyes. What's wrong with your eyes? They're like...pieces of coal — so black. Get the hell away from me! I ain't goin' nowhere with you. Especially there...not in there! Please, I'm sorry, I never got the chance to tell everybody how much I really cared about 'em.. Please, I wanna go home. I promise, I'll change. Christ, I'll even start goin' to church on Sundays, I swear! No more partyin' or drinkin'; I swear on my life. I'm only nineteen — got my whole life ahead of... What do ya mean, "what life?" Get your stinkin' hands off me. It burns! You're hurtin' me! Please, oh dear sweet Jesus, please, help me! Get away — get away! Just let me — G-O-O-0-0-O-O-o-o-oooooooo..."   Writing Prompt rite a flash fiction story under 500 words about being lost Recognized Author Notes The artwork is my own. The story is 498 words. As always, thanks so much for reading! "Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upon him while he is near." Isa. 55:6.

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