Mind Storm
Groundhog Day, 2024
Pauly Hart
A Flash Fiction for PaulyHart.com
Bill Rogers was upside down, then backwards, then tragically sideways with a terrible force. The ground was up and the trees were over there and then they were in the window with a terrible sound. There was a motion against him and a scream from Emily and Valerie and Mister Jeff and then the horn wouldn’t stop blaring and he heard sobbing then it was black.
But only black for seconds because when he woke up he was still upside down in the car and Mister Jeff was awake and shaking his head groggily and a demon was screaming at him: “Bill,” but was it really Valerie? There’s no way it was because he remembers that this might be her fault and she wasn’t driving, that had been Mister Jeff, but she had done something maybe? There was a rushing in his mind. The demon became louder until he could bear it no more.
Pulling, twisting, now Mister Jeff is yelling at him about being too hurt. Bill does not care and pulls free and out of the van onto the ground, being freshly plowed by the passenger door, a wet rape mark of pure rage against nature. Bill ran. The family chased after him for several steps, a demon that looked like Emily crying and pleading, falling to her knees, mouth agape. Bill had to find help. He didn’t know if they were really the family he loved, the demon images of fright pierced his mind with lies. He should find help.
He runs down the highway. Other vehicles were pulling over on the side to peer down at the scene, but they weren’t doing anything. They just stood there on their phones. Why weren’t they helping? Some noticed him running and called to him. Fools. I’m not the one who needs help. He turned back towards the van for one last look at his people. Were they demons? Yes. Maybe. He didn’t know. It was all too overwhelming. He loved his people, but the people in the car maybe weren’t his people? Yes they were. They had to be.
He looked up at the cars. There was one person coming down the slope to help. That was not enough. Bill had to find more. He was a good boy. His Valerie always told him so. He was a good boy.
Hang tight master. Bill will get help.