the windscreen wipers squeaked across the dry glass. once, twice. the young man grimaced at the unpleasant sound and flicked the switch to turn the wipers off. he briskly brushed a speck of dust off the almost inhumanely clean car dashboard. he took way better care of this car than the one before it. admittedly, he couldn't have imagined a detergent that actually would have managed to clean the grease-ridden steering wheel or the stains of unknown origin on the seats of the old pre-owned jeep that he had to give up on the prior year, along with his best friend, whose death everyone attributed to the age and faulty workings of a car probably far older than the two passengers combined.

~

it was devastating, pulling up to the spot where his best friend had taken his last breath. where he had killed him. people told him it had been a tragic accident, but it didn't soothe the guilt that seemed to creep up to him again and again. it dug its claws into his ankles, clambered up his legs with ease, left a foul feeling behind as it passed his stomach, ripped his chest apart and spread through his body with the flow of his blood. it felt as if it unhinged its jaw and ate up his spirit, gobbling almost, like the most delicious dish to ever be found on this planet. and soon he felt the pain of his loss in every fiber of his being. the shivering and shaking commenced and he could barely see straight.

one year.

he wondered if he would ever find salvation, anything to make the horrible memories stop.