BRAKES
I struggled to keep my eyes open, my right hand gripped the wheel while I began to rub my eyes with the left. I glanced at the small digital watch on the dashboard -- 2 am. I swore out loud. I had an hour for the delivery to be made on time. A minute late and the retailer would make a fuss about paying me. 200 kilograms of onions, pulses and potatoes were wrapped tightly with sacks and ropes in the truck and I needed to get them into the city fast. My foot pressed the accelerator and the needle moved from 60 to 80 kilometres per hour.
I felt my head was about to explode into a million pieces and I cursed myself for having drunk as much as I had. The street lamps along the winding highway were sparse and my headlights were dimmer than ever. I squinted as a black shape took form in front of me, soon the outline became clear. Panic washed over me. Brakes? No I wouldn't be able to stop in time, the poor animal would be mangled to pieces.
I swerved and the front of my truck missed the cow by inches. Looking back I saw it cross safely to the other side.
I would have started for the city earlier if it weren't for the blasted queue at the petrol station. I knew I wouldn't make it home before 5. I pulled out the old Motorola from my pocket, no missed calls. Normally my wife would have left a few calls, worrying about my whereabouts and complaining that the rice would go bad. It was obvious she was sulking, hoping I'd apologise to her. When I left home last evening she was still complaining, showing me the 'bruises' and calling me something along the lines of a monster. 'Drama queen,' I sighed, they were barely visible! My ungrateful son was giving me a hard time as well, saying he needed more money for books. 'Books!' I had sniggered. I knew exactly what he was going to do with the money. Taking me for a fool he was, as if I never went to school.
5th grade was the most I'd reached, I'd like to say financial problems got in the way but not really -- I just got bored. Where I would be today if I had studied farther was something I didn't like thinking about and I pushed the thought out of my head.
More than once I dozed off and my forehead hit the steering wheel. This time I could see blurred images, I saw a man, dressed in a posh suit, counting a wad of bills, he looked back at me and I saw the man had my face. He started running away from me as a shrill sound reached our ears. My eyes opened to the loud honking of a car horn. Bright lights flashed, hurting my eyes. Then it occurred to me -- I was driving on the wrong side of the road. In that instant, time seemed to slow- I pressed down hard on the brakes, and I looked in front of me
My truck screeched to a halt but the car was thrown into the air, it landed roof down on the side of the road. Bits of glass lay scattered around in a haphazard manner.
My eyes wandered inside the vehicle and I saw her. No more than 8 years old. Blood covered her otherwise pale and flushed face, she looked right at me and stretched out a trembling hand.
I have to help. I caused this. Hastily I unlocked my door. I caused this, I remembered. Looking back at the buckled metal and the cracked, blood stained windshield, I imagined corpses. Corpses I made. There was a fleeting moment of indecision then I forced myself to look away and I sped on, not taking even a glance backwards.
The Allion, had been filled with people. Yes, I still remember the model and the plate number -- it haunts me every night.
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