Ficlets

headlights

“Tell me you love me,” my mother said calmly. Her voice was calm and her grip on the wheel of the car was firm. “Convince me, Mason,”

I wanted to. But my throat had closed up! She jerked the wheel to the left again. And all at once, we were on the wrong side of the road, heading directly into oncoming traffic. The glare of the headlights was all I could stare at, as I struggled to find my voice again.

“-I…I love you!!” I screamed. She calmly jerked the wheel to the right and the glaring headlights went away.

“You aren’t very convincing, but that will have to do. Wasn’t that fun, kids?! Now, that is what I call real fun. Mason, didn’t you think about what it wouldv’e been like? What it would feel like? I mean, to die. I did!”

My younger sister trembled in the backseat. I could feel her terror radiating from her. We didn’t dare say anything to our mother, in fear of another impulse action, on her account.

I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I had to do something.

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