Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
The rain was gone, and in its place was ice. The road was freaking scary. Both sides of the highway are lined by woods. Plus, there are no streetlights. My headlights are the only light guiding my way. Maybe at the next town meeting, I can advocate for streetlights. Who am I kidding? I could never stand up in a room crowded with people, telling them what should be changed as the new person in town. Yeah, I think not. No, thank you. I’ll just make sure I’ll be home a lot earlier than I am today.
“Ugh, I hate these curves in the road.” I take my foot off the gas, slowing down and drifting around the corner. The trees give off an eerie feeling, only making the driving conditions that much worse. Plus, there’s literally no other car in sight and hasn’t during the past couple of miles.
“Ten more minutes. We can do this.” My knuckles are white, gripping the steering wheel as tightly as possible. I’m sure once the drive is over, my joints are going to ache. I’ll need a hot bath to decompress and make a vow to myself never again to do something as stupid again. I have a phone for a reason, and clearly, I was on some kind of cloud nine without a care in the world, when glancing at the weather app on my phone would have prepared me for this moment. I mean, a hotel would kill the budget without a doubt. I could have left earlier at least.
“Stupid, Carsynn, you were stupid, stupid, stupid.” I feel my tires start to slip. The ice is no match for the lack of tread on my wheels. Instead of shoes, I should have taken my car into McCoy’s to have them make sure it was ready for all the elements, rain, ice, or snow. You know, the conditions that come with a winter in New Hampshire. Obviously, they aren’t good enough. I could literally break down and cry. Hell, I probably will by the time I make it home. Nothing like big, fat tears streaming down your face while driving at an ungodly slow pace while you’re slipping and sliding all over the road. Let’s add one more element into the mix, why don’t we.
I was not thinking I’d need tires this soon. I should have known better. Nothing good ever happens to Carsynn Nichols.
Am I having a pity party while trying to keep my car from sliding into a ditch?
Yes.
Is it keeping my mind off the fact that I’m an idiot?
No.
My car and I can’t keep up. I’m creeping along the road, not using the gas, and I’m certainly not using the brake. If I could take my eyes off the road, I’d look down to see how slow I’m really going. That’s not going to happen, not with the way I can now hear my tires squealing along the iced-over road. I can’t keep up. My car can’t either. I’m pushing it and myself to the limits, and unfortunately, I’m going to have to give up. So, maybe my pity party was for a good reason after all.
“Pull over, Cars, you can call McCoy for a tow. So, it’ll set you back a few hundred dollars. You can’t live if you’re buried in the ditch.” I slowly turn my wheel, hoping above all hope I can get off the shoulder without teetering into the ditch. Ugh, of course, I’m going to have to use my brakes. They’re no match for ice, and the traction on my tread won’t help at all. I try to remember if I’m supposed to pump them or not and then realize it’s too late. My right foot is already attempting fate. We’ll just have to go with it. I could really use those thump-thumpers to help reduce my speed. Sadly, Plaine Hill doesn’t have them, and this is what I’m working with.
A shiver races its way down my spine. I can feel the ice beneath my tires. Don’t ask me how, I just can. Panick is added into the mix, the tightening of my chest. The way my vision is starting to tunnel. I’m not only going to die in a car accident, I’m going to lose consciousness for lack of breathing. The weather in New Hampshire is nothing like in Virginia. Sure, we had the same elements, but at least I could get home in a reasonable time without all of this commotion.
Tell me again why I didn’t head further south. Oh right, because your parents always said they’d eventually move somewhere where the climate is warm. So, what do I do? I head north to the freaking Antarctic. Smart move, Carsynn, smart move.
“Goddamn it!” One minute I’m slowing down, the next I’m spinning out of control. My car doing a complete one-eighty a few freaking times, my arms are hurting trying to control the steering wheel. It’s no use. I’ve lost any semblance of power I thought I had. My four tires were once firmly on the ground, like they should be, except I can feel my car teetering and tottering back and forth, trying to gain its own momentum.