Five Years, A Forgotten Name

The red glow of his taillights was an insult, a mocking farewell as they vanished into the suffocating darkness. I stood there, shivering, the icy wind whipping around me, tearing at my thin dress. He was gone. He had actually left me. The realization hit me, cold and hard. He didn't care if I was safe, if I was found, if I even survived.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady myself, but the cold air only made me cough. The darkness around me was absolute, a thick, suffocating blanket broken only by the faint, indifferent stars. There were no houses, no lights, just the looming silhouettes of trees that seemed to swallow the meager starlight.

Fear, raw and primal, clawed its way up my throat. What if an animal came? What if someone else drove by, someone worse than Braylon? My mind raced, conjuring horrors from every dark corner. I couldn't just stand here and wait to become a victim.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks with a trembling hand. No. I would save myself. I had to. Clutching my arms around myself, I began to walk, my eyes straining to make out the faint outline of the road. One careful step after another.

My foot slipped.

A sharp, agonizing scream tore from my throat as I lost my balance. I fell, hard, a sickening CRACK echoing in the silence. Pain exploded in my ankle, a searing, white-hot agony that shot up my leg and consumed my entire body. I gasped, cold sweat instantly beading on my forehead.

I tried to push myself up, but the pain was too intense. It was a broken bone. I knew it. I collapsed back onto the cold, hard ground, tears streaming down my face.

"Why?" I sobbed, the word choked and broken. "Why did I stay? Why did I waste five years on him?" I hated myself more than I hated him in that moment. My foolish hope, my endless patience, my unwavering love-it had all led to this. Alone, injured, and abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

Braylon pulled up to Dallas' s brightly lit mansion, barely registering her excited chatter. His mind was elsewhere, a gnawing unease simmering beneath his anger. He felt a flicker of guilt, a cold tendril of fear. He had left Eliza.

"Thanks, Braylon! You're the best!" Dallas chirped, leaning in for a kiss. He barely registered it.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, already putting the car in reverse.

Dallas frowned, then shrugged, getting out. "Don't forget our promise!" she called out, as he sped away, leaving her standing on her porch.

He drove back, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He called out Eliza's name, his voice hoarse, but the darkness swallowed his cries. The road twisted and turned, each bend looking exactly like the last. Panic began to set in. He was lost. He drove up and down the desolate stretch for what felt like hours, calling her name, turning his headlights into the dense woods. Nothing. No answer.

He began to search frantically, pulling off the road, stumbling through the undergrowth, his own fear escalating with every passing minute. Where was she? Had he really left her in such a dangerous place?

The sun began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and gray, but Eliza was nowhere to be found. He felt a cold dread seep into his bones, a horrifying premonition. His legs felt like lead. He had to get help.

He sped to the nearest police station, his hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel. As he entered the bustling station, a fragment of conversation drifted to his ears from a group of officers near the desk.

"...female body... found down by the old winding road... looks like a hit and run... poor thing was barely recognizable..."

Braylon's blood ran cold. The words echoed in his head, a grotesque symphony of his worst fears. His knees buckled. He clutched the counter, his knuckles white, barely keeping himself upright. His mouth was dry, tasting of ash. Eliza. It had to be Eliza.