“Oh my god!” I jumped out of my car. I knew what I had hit, but I needed the verification. I ran over to the body laying on the ground. He’s moving. I got to get out of here quick. I sprint back to my car and jump in the driver’s seat . My car still wreaks of the whiskey that spilt on my seat. With my hands shacking I try to put the keys in the ignition. Ha Ha got it. I just need to focus now. No need to worry. He didn’t get my plates. Who am I kidding?  He’s probably unconscious. There’s not a chance he got the plates. I just got to leave as quick as possible. The lights flash by as I look down at my speedometer creeping it’s way all the way to the other side. I reach down for another swig of whiskey. Grab the bottle and throw a gulp down. Whoa the car swerves quickly to the left towards oncoming traffic. I can’t see a thing with the headlights blinding my eyes. I throw the wheel back to the right and take another swig for safety. My songs on. The horns start up and I turn the dial till it won’t go up anymore. I roll my windows down and light up my cigarette.
    “And it burns, burns, burns the ring of fire’ yells the radio at me as I exhale my smoke. I can’t help but to laugh as I swerve in and out of the traffic in front of me honking as I come inches from swiping out the hoods of their cars. This is the most fun I’ve had since I was a kid. What would my wife think of me now. To think she left me yesterday because I don’t know how to have fun. Now I can’t think of anything more quality entertainment than this. To think of how mad she’ll be when she gets her car back with the dent on the hood. No doubt the police will come looking at my house first for it. I have this whole plan all thought out. Genius work on my part. I’m gong to ditch it down the back alleyway on baker street and run down to main street to pick up a cab home, but not before I have a little fun first. I mean how often can you drive recklessly with no repercussions. Not my plates not my problem. No cop is going to come knocking on my door.
I turn the radio up full blast and roll the window all the way down. I put my head out the window screaming and yelling at any pedestrian I see on the side of the road. This baby has got some speed. I push the pedal as far down as It will go and put my head back in the car. The needle passes the 60, the 70, the 80, the 90, 95, 102.
    I slam the breaks and lay on the horn. Where did that car come from. I must have only had an inch between me and his back bumper. Thank you god for looking out for me now in my time of weakness. Your so nice to me. I grab the bottle and chug down the last gulp. No good having this in the car. That’s just evidence. I throw the bottle out the window into oncoming traffic and watch it smash the front windshield of a car. The car comes to a skidding stop, but I’m 200 yards down the road by now. I give it some gas and start swerving in and out of the traffic. I reach in the backseat and take out another bottle. The finest blends of Turkish tobacco. You are so right Mr. Camel. I pull out the lighter and light the cigarette in front of me. The lights bright though. I can’t see for a second. The car slowly starts swerving into the left lane, but my cigarette wont light. “Got it”. Loud horns pierce my ears and I look up to see two headlights looking me in the eyes. No stopping now. It’s too late to pull aside. I put both hands on the wheel and get ready to embrace the crash. I can’t help but to think that I hope it kills me. The cars collide The glass from the windshield shatters in my face and I’m jerked forward head into the steering wheel.
    I awake in my car, flipped upside down with the other car about 10 yards in front of me. I don’t see anyone get out of the car. Maybe I killed them. I unbuckle the seat belt and fall to my head on the ceiling of my car. I crawl through the glass to the broken window to my right. I crawl out of the car and stand up to stretch out my back. I think I tweaked it. No one come out of the car in front of me, but there’s another car headed my way. I need to get out of the road. If they find out I was apart of this crash I’ll be in jail for a long time. A hit and run, a car crash, a stolen car and a drunk driver is never going to get away from an accident like this without a couple years at least in jail. I could hope my ex-wife wouldn’t press charges, but we didn’t leave on the best of terms. What would you do if you found another guy in your old bed the night that you broke up. He probably didn’t deserve the beating, but it wasn’t me who gave it to him. It was another part of my head that takes over when I get angry, or depressed.
    The car is about 100 yards away now, so I start to run for the woods. It slows down in front of the two cars at the point where I’m making my way into the woods. I run through the woods and find a trail. I slow up feeling nauseas and dizzy. I fall to my knees and start puking. My vision blurs up and tears come into my eyes. From the puking, or from my mistakes I don’t know. I should have been much more responsible. What was I thinking. Why would I harm others for my misfortune. It’s like the sang misery loves company. It’s so true. I couldn’t help, but to feel better at the fact that there lives will be forever changed for the worst too and they’ll have to feel the pain I feel right now. I go to stand up, but my eyes are caught to something on the ground. I look at the dirt where I had puked and it’s covered in blood. To think of it I never even checked my self for injuries. I look at my arms there bruised up and bleeding a little bit. My legs are the same way. My back I can feel is bleeding through my shirt. I reach my hands up to my head. I put my hands on the back of my head and look at my hands. Covered in blood. I got to get to the hospital. I walk back the trail till I see another road. I walk into the road and start waving down cars. A car stops for me and I ask for a ride to the hospital. She pulls out her phone and drives away. What did I do? No one has any courtesy anymore. Not even the respect to take a hurt man to the hospital. I walk the road, but no cars will stop for me. I need to sit down. My arms and legs are killing me. I can’t think. My head goes from feeling light to heavy and pain beats in and out from intense to moderate pain. My breathing slows down I can hardly keep my eyes open. In the corner of my Eyes I can see the red flashes brightening up in my eyelashes. The red slowly blurs itself into a black and I slowly fall asleep.
    I’m awoken in a hospital bed with an I.V. in my arm. What happened? I need to find the doctor. I go to stand up, but a nurse rushes over to me.
“Stay where you are, let me go get the doctor. Doctor he’s awake again”.
“Can you hear me, How many fingers am I holding up.”
The doctors voice echoes in my ears and is diminished by the sounds of my breathing. I tell him I can hear him fine and he asks me if I can tell him what happened. What did happen? I remember the accident, but I can’t tell him that. I need to think of a cover story, but my mind is too inactive to think. I slowly close my eyes hide the fact that I can’t explain to him my story. Make him believe I’m still out of it. When I reawake. There is three more figures standing around me. I make out the figure of the doctor, but the other two are still to blurry to see. As my vision slowly starts to come back to me I can sort of make out the two other people staring at me. Two police officers. How did they know? They can’t have anything on me besides the fact that it was my ex-wife’s car. That’s not enough for a conviction, but it’s enough for suspicion. I’ll just keep my cool and act oblivious to the whole accident and car theft. It never happen. They start to ask me questions, but I act incoherent for a second, so I can come up with an alibi. I decide that I should say I was depressed and jumped in front of a car because of the divorce. Then I’ll only have to do some counseling instead of jail and I could use someone to talk to anyway. It won’t be the worst thing in the world. I finally answer them and tell them I can hear them.
“Mr. Wegman do you have any idea what you have done.”
“Yes sir officers, I wasn’t thinking. I was depressed I wanted to end it all, so I jumped in front of a car. The car hit me, but drove off. I walked down the road through the woods incoherently trying to find the hospital until I passed out on the side of the road.”
“Mr. Wegman your under arrest we have reason to believe that you were involved with two hit in runs one involving a 25 year old male who was taken to the hospital and is in critical condition now and we believe that if he does manage to recover he will be paralyzed the rest of his life and you were also involved in another hit and run where the driver was pronounced dead on the scene. All this was done in your ex-wife’s stolen car and under the influence of alcohol. You realize you should be dead right now too, from alcohol poisoning and from the severity of your head wounds. We will leave you here until you are recovered and then you will be brought to the city prison until you court case on June 15th. You are going to need to find a lawyer. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand”
I felt nothing thought nothing. I don’t understand. What had I done. How had I come to this. I wasn’t sad like I thought I’d be though. I just felt empty. I’m a murderer of two people when I was the only one who felt like dieing. How did I survive the impossible odds. How did they know it was me. So many questions ran through my mind, but I needed to know how they knew it was me. I couldn’t have left anything in there.
‘How did you know it was me”
“Well we weren’t 100% certain until you made that confession, but we had two things to use against you. You ex-wife said you loved drinking Captain Morgan and that was your alcohol of choice and we found a bottle of that in the car and she also said you only smoked Camel Turkish Royal cigarettes and we found cigarette butt’s from those and a pack to go with it.