The Waiting

2 min read

Story Premise 2 min read (266 words)

"The last thing I remember before the silence was the hum of the engine. That low, steady hum had been my only companion for three hours now, a familiar sound that filled the empty spaces of County Road 9. It was just past 11 PM, and the moon hung thin and pale in the sky, […]"

The last thing I remember before the silence was the hum of the engine. That low, steady hum had been my only companion for three hours now, a familiar sound that filled the empty spaces of County Road 9. It was just past 11 PM, and the moon hung thin and pale in the sky, barely casting enough light to see the road ahead. I was driving home from another failed attempt to find work in the next county over. Three interviews. Three rejections. My wallet was empty, and my spirit was even emptier.

Then it happened. Without any warning, the engine coughed once, a sick, choking sound that made my stomach drop. It sputtered twice more, and then it died completely. The headlights flickered once and went out, plunging me into a darkness so complete and absolute that I felt like I had been buried alive. I coasted to a stop on the side of the dirt road, the only sounds now the soft tick of cooling metal and the frantic pounding of my own heart against my ribs.

I sat there for a long moment, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. My breath came in shallow gasps. I forced myself to move, to think. I fumbled for the glove compartment, my fingers trembling as I searched for my flashlight. It wasn’t there. I checked my pockets. Nothing. I patted the seat, the floor, the dashboard. My flashlight was gone. Panic began to rise in my chest like a cold tide, spreading through my limbs, making my skin prickle with sweat.

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