Mia Carter

My mother is not afraid of much. In fact, there's not many things that hold her back. The only thing that does would probably be her wheelchair.

I can't remember how she got the wheelchair. All I know is that my father died that same night, 14 years ago. She doesn't talk about it either. It being him and the incident. It's not like I could've just gone around asking either. I didn't even know where we used to live. Now, I don't even bother.

Of course, I didn't expect it all to come looking for me. If I did expect it, I would have never visited my mother that night.

I should have known something was going to happen, especially since my mother warned me about it.

"Mia," she told me over the phone, "you know I enjoy you coming over but I think that with all those murders going on, you should just stay home tonight. Just come over tomorrow. In the morning."

I rolled my eyes.

"Aye, mom," I said annoyed as I put my white hoodie over my San Fransico T-shirt, "I'll be fine. I mean, I'm going to be in my car."

"But-"

"I'm hanging up, getting my coffee and leaving," I interrupted her. "I'll be there-"

"Honey, they can get you in your car," she interrupted matter-of-factly.

"God, I'm nineteen, mom," I snapped. "I can take care of myself."

Then I hung up, completely annoyed with her, but I headed out anyway, taking my coffee with me.

It wasn't like my mom lived towns and towns away. She lived on the outskirts of the next town.

I took my time on the empty roads -I'll admit that I usually speed, but at this time at night, especially with those murders going on, there's a little dude named Officer Lawson.

When I turned a corner, my coffee tipped over, soaking my shoes and pants.

"Hot hot," I breathed as I slammed on the breaks.

I removed my shoes and took off my socks. I hate wet shoes. And wet socks.

I searched my side compartments for napkins, but couldn't find any.

Suddenly, so suddenly that I jumped, I heard a loud thump on the top of my car.

"What the..." I muttered looking up.

Then a fist started to pound on my windshield. A bloody palm.

I screamed, setting my car into reverse and slamming on the pedal.

I screamed even louder when a body flew through the air, leaving a spotted trail of blood on my windshield. I put my hand over my mouth as my eyesight became blurry.

Even though my car had stopped, it felt like it was going 150 per hour.

I killed a person. That was my first thought. My breathing became raspy as I exited my car.

"Oh, God," I said as I saw the body on the ground.

It was a man.

I walked slowly, my legs becoming more like jello with each step. When my foot was right by his head, I looked behind me for any sign of help. I turned back around.

The guy was standing up. A gasp rose in my throat and stuck there as he slapped his hand over my mouth.

"Shh," he whispered.

I really didn't really have any other choice than to shut up.

In the eerie silence, I heard men shouting at each other angrily.

Suddenly, the man grabbed me roughly by the shoulder -with his hand still over my mouth- and dragged me to my car. Getting in, he didn't let go until he was seated in the passenger seat and I was in the drivers. Why he didn't just decide to drive, let alone just leave me and steal my car, I have no idea.

"Drive," he said as if he was just making a suggestion.

I sat there confused. "W-where?"

He looked behind me and I followed his gaze. Far behind us -and catching up- were two cars speeding on both sides of the road.

"Drive!" he shouted, his voice changing.

I slammed down on the pedal as I put the car into drive.

I glanced at him as I sped up. He was bleeding on his stomach. He held the spot with one hand. I also couldn't help but realize how pale he was.

"Where am I going?" I asked, glancing behind us, watching as the curves covered the lights.

When he didn't answer me, I turned my head towards him.

He was staring at me llike he had never seen anyone of my kind.

"Where am I going?" I asked louder, turning my head back to face the road.

He sighed, running the hand that wasn't bloody through his hair.

"The park," he finally said, looking forward.

"Um... are you sure?" I asked sort of panicking. I mean, there had just been a murder there the other night. Why would he want to go to the park, especially at this time at night? He had to be crazy...unless he was the killer and he wanted to kill me?

"Yes," he said casually, once more turning to look behind us.

I swallowed as I snuck another look at him. He didn't quite... there. Like he was daydreaming or something. He didn't look in any condition to kill someone. Then again, he had dragged me into my car.

But, hey, if wanted to go to the park, then I would take him. As long as that was all I had to do.

Without saying a word, he got out when I had made a complete stop. He just stood there at my passenger door, just staring at me. Almost like he was waiting for me to do something.

I felt uncomfortable with him staring at me like that, so I just began to drive. Maybe that was what he wanted me to do.

I glanced back in my review mirror. He was staring at my car as I drove off. I was about to look back when my head jerked back in his direction.

Whoa. I could have sworn that I had seen two little kids standing right next to him, but when I looked back -which was no more than five seconds top- he and the kids- if they were even really there- were gone.