Complicated Vows: This Is War

Discovery

Danielle yawned and stretched on her back as she slowly rose back into consciousness after a long night of good sleep. Pushing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and shuffled over to her mirror. Her long brown hair, that after her twenty years of life reached just past her hips, was tangled, looking like birds had tried to make it into their nest during the night. Her hazel eyes shone with new-morning light, the muted sunrays dancing on the gold flecks in her irises.

The morning filtered through her dingy baby-blue curtains, the soft beams seeming to ignite the thick floating dust in the room. After successfully managing to tame her hair into one long braid, she walked over to her window and stared out, looking out at her baby; the bright blue Ford Raptor SVT sat in the gravel driveway, covered in dirt and morning dew.

"You sure do need a bath, don't you big boy?" Danielle whispered with a small grin.  Washing the giant truck was a challenging all-day endeavor, but one that she thoroughly enjoyed taking on. Even if she resided in a grubby shack out in the boonies, her pride and joy sat out front, faithfully waiting for her every morning. Some people would say that it was just a truck, something that should have been allowed to be scrapped, but there was just something about the Raptor that held her heart in its bed.

Glancing at her clock, 8:13 AM, she threw on a white tank top, tan baggies, and black knockoff combat boots. To say she was a tomboy was an understatement but she didn’t care. She was comfortable and didn’t mind the slightly military air that it gave her. It also made her look stronger than she really was.

 She headed for the kitchen to grab some breakfast and her keys then headed outside. She didn't have time to wash the Raptor today, but gave him a silent vow to wash and wax him fully tomorrow first thing.

Walking up to the vehicle, she ran her fingertips lightly over the metal, from the headlights to the hood to the grill, rubbing off the layer of grime on the grill emblem, an odd face that almost resembled a robotic cat of some sort. Sighing at the dirt on her fingertips, she wiped them off on her pants and then unlocked the truck. Hopping into the cab, she backed out of the driveway onto the "main road", the track of dirt cutting through the dense trees that was a sorry excuse for a roadway. As she headed out, she looked into the rearview mirror and was momentarily distracted by the yellow dust cloud rising into the wispy, gray morning fog behind her. She let her mind slip and allowed herself to daydream of how life used to be, back when she still lived with her parents.

Everything was ok back then; she didn't have to worry about bills or getting food or protecting herself. Everything was provided for, and she hardly had to even lift a finger. The happy memories darkened, however, burned away at the edges by the hell that had become the main, and only, reason that she had left.  For that one reason alone, she would never go back, no matter what happened to her these days.

All of a sudden, the engine sputtered, vibrating the cab and bringing her attention back to driving. In front of her, partly shrouded by the drapery of the fog, a large buck stood in the middle of the road, frozen in fear as the hulking noisy truck hurtled towards it.

Danielle slammed on the brakes, but one of the tires caught in a pothole, sending the truck skidding sidewise. Trying to regain control of the vehicle, Danielle jerked the steering wheel back towards the road, but the over-correction was a mistake; one that put her in direct path of one of the sentinel pines lining the road. Going from 45 miles per hour to an absolute stop in less than 25 feet was impossible and she knew it. Yelling out, she shut her eyes, bracing herself against the now-locked-up steering wheel, waiting for the head-on collision.

As she ran off the road, she could hear all the twigs and leaves of the shrubbery slamming and flicking against the cab and underside of the truck, warning her of the path she was on: the impending obliteration of the front end of the vehicle, the whining and snapping of metal as the truck wrapped itself around the tree trunk, slamming her into the steering wheel and then the windshield, glass shattering all around, the engine being rammed backwards into the cab, solid steel pinning her legs to the seat, fire eating through her veins, coursing pain and agony.