The Light Flashed

 

That night.  Ughhh!  That night.  It was literally one of the most horrific nights of my life.  I haven't forgotten it.  Nor will I ever forget it.  It still reigns vividly in my mind.  

That guy I had moved in with--the drunkard.  Yeah.  Well, one night he was up to his usual drunk shenanigans.  Only this time, a couple of friends of ours had stopped by the house for some supper.  

It was a pretty pleasant time.  I mean, I really didn't think he would get wasted with friends there.  He knew how inebriated he would get from that Wild Turkey.  And so, I was in the kitchen getting a lesson on how to peel potatoes from my friend.  She was super kind.  A little older than me.  Sandy blonde thick hair with gentle swoops flowing by her face.  Yeah.  She was pretty.  The kind of pretty I really wish I was--even back then.

Nothing was out of the ordinary.  My friend's husband was in the living room with my boyfriend.  They were watching the basketball game while waiting for the food to finish cooking. We ate supper, and they left.  I thought things were good.  I was so wrong.

My drunk boyfriend decided to do a full run of an overdose of Tylenol PM's.  I mean like the whole bottle.  He was acting far worse drunk than usual.  His eyes were so crazed looking.  His yelling and screaming of that "F" word was like being in a room full of fingernails scratching on chalkboards.  It was insane!

Finally, I ran outside of the house and jumped in his hatch-backed Toyota Carrola.  It was a stick shift and quite and beat up looking car.  But I knew I had to get out of there. We only had one car.  So, it was driving that jalopy or getting really close friends with Pat and Charlie.  

We lived far out in the county--in between Kinston and Trenton.   I didn't know where to go, but I knew I had to get as far away from that crazy drunk man as possible!  My sanity depended on it.  I just didn't realize my life was about to see an up-close view of what could have been the end of my days on earth.  

As I was getting into the car, he jumped in too.  At that point he was vomiting and retching as though he was about to pass out.  I realized I had to take him to the hospital.  So, I put the pedal to the metal and flew down that long dark road.  

I knew the closest hospital was in Kinston. That was where I was heading. But he had to stop me.  

As I was turning left onto the main highway, he leaned over and reached for something under my driver's seat. He pulled out the scariest thing I have ever seen.  A gun.

Yeah.  It was a gun, but I didn't know what kind. 

He pulled up the gun by my head and began to pull back the cock.  I felt my life was over. I slammed on breaks and rolled down the window all at the same time.  All I knew was that I had to get that gun away from his hands.  I was swerving and blowing the horn, and he was still ranting and raving with all his might.

Just as he was pulling the trigger, I managed (still don't know how that happened) to push the gun away from my temple.  The gun went off--outside the window.  The noise and light from the gun was like nothing I'd ever heard before.  It was a flare gun. and it went off right beside my ear.  I couldn't hear, and I felt dizzy and lightheaded.  

Somehow, through all of my swerving and slamming on breaks, one of my tires had popped.  I suddenly came to a stop--right in the middle