Penelope Peterson, short and thin, plummeted into the front seat of her grandmother’s Rooster red, rolling, ridiculousness. She’d fought tooth and nail to get her driver’s license without a tidbit of training. She somehow managed to persuade Theodore Blankenship, a month into his dream job at the department of transportation, to fib and give her a perfect passing grade on the road test. It wasn’t long before she realized favors are fixed with figures whether affordable or not.
Laying her head on the steering wheel, she imagined she’d escaped his view. Every hour of every day, she could feel Theo’s dark, piercing stare upon her body. It wasn’t until she leaned up that she realized he had draped his fragile, pale and ultimately feminine body across the top of granny’s go-go mobile. He reached his scrawny arms through the sunroof, wrapping his bony fingers around her neck, he choked the living daylights out of her. She kicked for a moment, lacking the fight Theo the thrill seeking nobody desired. Despite the disappointment, he chopped her chin into tiny pieces, placing blood drenched chunks into a picnic basket strapped to the trunk. He tossed the rest of her body into the forest and drove away. He happily hummed as drops of burgundy splattered down the pavement.
The trail of gore stopped at the end of the road. Theo pumped the brakes and with no success they forcefully found the floorboard, ending him up, rattled and unrecognizable at the bottom of Mount Misery.
Leesa Writes 