Prolonged Meeting

Each beat of the song blaring through the radio ricocheted off of the inner walls of the black Mustang. With the undersurface of his feet tapping against the floor of the black beauty, Kye Glass wrapped the pale palms of his sweaty, calloused hands around the curve of the steering wheel. Pressing his phone against his ear, arguing with his assistant, had rendered him with the outskirts of his ears becoming acutely hot and red. The voice box of his parched throat vibrated every time the deep notes of his hoarse voice boomed into the phone. Till a certain point, his eyes could see that the cars were moving like snails in peanut butter and after that, it was an expanse of almost empty concrete, with more than enough leeway for the cars to breathe.
Kye, on finally reaching the cause of the ruckus, couldn’t wrap his head around what he was seeing. Half of the road was occupied with a truck and a small Volkswagen Golf was smashed against the wall, which was kissing the foot of the pavement. With the missed flight at the back of his mind, he parked his car on the side and made his way towards the truck. Tugging at the handle, Kye opened the door of the TATA product and found the driver’s seat empty.
With confusion laced in the gaps between his toes, he made his way to the red car, hoping to find it empty, too. Kye didn’t need to reach the car in order to see what the situation was. With his heart beating almost as fast as his feet thudding against the concrete, he opened the door and retracted almost immediately. The stench of blood flooded his nose and burned the rim of his nostrils, but the resolution to help the bundle of broken bones vetoed him from climbing back into the safe confines of his car.
Wrapping his forty-eight year old hands around the blood clad body of the unconscious young woman, he made his way back to his own car. Pressing the pad of his feet against the accelerator, all he could think was how the void created in his heart by his wife leaving was suddenly filled with something he couldn’t name, the second he held the petite woman against his chest.
It had been eight hours since Kye had arrived at a local hospital. His phone kept ringing till it ending up kissing the torn wallpaper of the thin hospital wall. His hands had been shaking since the time he arrived and he could no longer ignore the continuous miasma of blood that was seeping into his pores. The doctor who was performing several surgeries on the woman had made only one appearance so far to inform hi that she no longer had 206 bones in her body, but 214.
Fourteen hours into the wait, and suddenly he felt something move beneath his tired, old hand, which was supporting his heavy head and swollen eyes. Kye, with his red eyes now wide open, was waiting for the woman to say something, but she kept staring at his hand resting on hers intendedly, till he removed his. He was about to say something to fill the void created by her moribund eyes, but she cut him, knowing what impact her next words would have.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, father?”

Used.

The bones of her skinny hands could be seen moving as three fingers of her left hands darted out to remove the tresses of hair, which had managed to escape from the tight grip of the bobby pins she’d placed on her head, from in front of her eyes. The wind whipping its rage across the sunken cheekbones of her face, and the flesh stretched below the delicate nape.
Her lace shirt rose a little and unconsciously, her hand left the tendril to flow with the wind as she pulled the soft fabric down. Her eyes widened, and darted relentlessly from left to right, making sure that no one had seen the raw skin of her belly. On its own accord, her right hand slithered under her shirt, and she felt the red finger marks beneath her fingertips. A hiss escaped from the back of her throat as images of what had happened a few hours ago made their way to the conscious part of her existence, making her halt in her tracks.
A single drop of water fell on the waxen skin of her arm from where the sleeve had been ripped off. Slowly, she looked up trying to find the find the trace of a single cloud, but her dark orbs skirted along an absolutely clear, black canvas- the specs of the magnificent white shining bright. Before the second drop could fall on her stained body, she wiped the back of her hand across the dampness in her eyes, which seemed like a replica of the dark, obscure dusk itself.
She could feel those fingers skirting along her pure, seventeen year old skin. The taste of the concoction of the sweat clinging to her skin, the tears dripping from the seams of her eyes, and the pain seering through every muscle of her young body still lingered on her tongue. The sensation of different fingers digging into the skin stretched across her hipbone, while she desperately tried to free herself from the chains of animosity made her head spin and the dampness in her eyes increased to such an extent that it was close to spilling.
Closing her eyes, she felt the cold air brushing against the naked parts of her skin and she didn’t even realize when her knees gave way under the weight of the secrets that made her heart heavy. Mustering all of the courage she had, she pulled herself up and let out an animalistic growl. The soles of her feet padded along the pavement as her used body moved swiftly in the darkness of the night. The beat of the thump created by her bare feet slapping against the floor increased just like the one in her heaving chest.
Stopping in front of the back door of her house, she wiped the back of her palm along the sheen of sweat that has appeared on her forehead. The click ricocheted off of the walls of the void house. Reaching the writing desk of her room, she clicked her pen open and scribbled a note on the smoothness of the blank sheet. Revolution came to be known when those words weren’t her last bye, but the first hello of her true self.