i remember nights when i would sit outside at night, and watch the cars. i would hold my daddy's hand and run toward the street before any of them could catch me. i touched the boulevard with the lightest of ballet toes before i let my halting breath carry me back.

"the next one will be green," my dad would say.

"no! blue!"

the car was white. i turned to watch his eyes follow the inevitable path this little car would take. i don't know why, but i never knew what he looked like then. i don't know what he wore or whether or not he had forehead wrinkles or thinning hair.

"they won't catch you, brianna bell, don't be scared," he said, and smiled. my hollowed, grasping fears would loosen and lift, into the sky.

i grabbed his hand then, and said, "i don't mind if they get me, i don't mind."

i open the curtains and sit down on my bed. and then the relativity of time shocks me to my feet and leaves me hurtling out the front door in knit boots and a sweatshirt, as the snow tumbles around my knees.

oh shit oh shit oh shit oh

my truck is stranded in layers and layers of nights and nights of snow and snow. i start the engine with my clumsy fingers trembling white, and the metal windshield scraper stings my skin. a huge truck that looks cut fresh from the showcase window (with my expertise in trucks, you know) whips the ice into my face, and someone shouts, "GET OUT OF THE ROAD, BITCH."

"SHUT THE HELL UP, DOUCHE BAG!!!!"

more cars, more shouts, more panic, more time, more gone. i run inside and let myself cry for exactly one minute before i put on anything that looks warm, anything at all. my fingers burn.

my knee trembles as i grasp the snow shovel between my stick hands and throw everything i have into that motherfucking snow that's in my god damn way. seriously, get the fuck out snow, i will kill you, I WILL KILL YOU, YOU DUMB PIECE OF -- these are the profound things rolling around in my head, even as i know what is going to happen.

for one moment, the sound stops. my fingernails slide down the side of the car, and i know i would like to die, please, don't hurry take your time.

whoosh and it's back and the insistent honking of the world, who only cares enough to tell me i am in its damn way, but does not think to stop the car and kneel over me and all the non-words tripping out of my mouth.

but i have to go, i know i must go or i will lose my chance, so i detach myself from the ground like you wound untangle a string from itself.

"fuck this."

i scream.