Disclaimer: I don't come close to owning this movie, or any of it's ridiculous characters... sadly
Introduction: I was home sick from school for two days, and discovered this movie. My first day back, but English teacher assigns a descriptive essay, and this scene pops right into my brain. I couldn't concetrate on anything else all day, and there are actually three version of this, in different viewpoints (Which I may or may not publish, depending on how nice my reviewers are). Enjoy!
The wood was rough against my shoulders as I lay in the bed of his truck, rolling gently towards the edge of the cliff. The texture of the boards has pulled my shirt up the slightest inch, and I can feel the scratch of it on my skin. The air is warm around me, but I'm numb inside. I ponder the cuts and scores in the lumber, wondering what stories they hold, what whispers of adventure. The weather-beaten slats are one of the few things on the truck that remain from when he was still alive.
The funeral was nearly two weeks ago, and the truck had been transformed in those fourteen days. It had changed nearly as much as I had in the months I had known it's owner. I am still a girl, as much as the truck is still a truck. The frame is still there, just as when he bought it. In the same way I am still Natalie, still fit, sallow, frail, pathetic Natalie, on the outside. The inside is a different matter. New engine for the truck, a new heart for me, new brakes versus a new conscience. The truck had been renewed, just like I have.
Although I can't see it now, I vividly recall the sight from the brink I am slowly approaching, as if I were sitting there and not lying here. I can even hear the water slap against the base of the drop off. The same water that laps the fire lit shore across the lake where normal youths celebrate. I am not a normal youth anymore. Every wave of the frigid lake water brings a wave of heated memories. As his truck and I near the ledge I hear the crunch of gravel under new tires and I remember him slamming the brakes just when I was certain we were going to go over the edge.
So I do the same, I jump out of the bed and into the cabin with one fluid motion, and stomp on the brake pedal just as the front tires reach the drop. They touch it, but do not go over. Now everything is completely still, save the faint hum of a party from across the water. I feel my heart beat within me and I know the tears are coming, but I do not allow them. I back up, turn around, and drive away. There is still one more thing to do.
Author's Notes:
I apologize for the time frame strangeness. I put two weeks in, because I don't really know the span between his death and all those little ending scenes, so i mdae something up. I also realize those repairs may not be possible in two weeks time. I do not know.