Misunderstood(COMPLETED)

Lonesome Highway

I needed to get far away, never look back, never go back. As I walked along the desolate highway all I could think about was what I'd left behind. In essence, nothing. In memory, the only ones I'd ever loved. Yes, I loved Chelsea and only now realizing how much. The countless what ifs, should haves, could haves bombarded my mind. It didn't matter, I couldn't change it, as everything in my life, it all came too late.

As the sun began to set, sitting along the highway on a nearby log just barely off the shoulder, tears flowed
uncontrollably at the sight. Her favorite time of day no longer brought me happiness, it only reminded me of all that was lost. Once twilight settled in I walked further into the woods. Grabbing sticks, leaves and stones I set up a small fire to attempt to stay warm. A full day without food or water weakened me though the emotional and physical tiredness greatly outweighed in comparison.

Feeling something, someone nudge at my feet wakened me in the early morning hours. My heart began racing, my breathing labored at the silhouette looming over me. "Boy, you all right, you alive" the husky voice inquired through my sleepy haze.

Scared it was the sheriff I tried to scramble to my feet only to be stopped by this giant of a man. "Whoa, hold on there buddy. I ain't gonna hurt ya" his voice bellowed through my ears. Was I truly awake or was it just another nightmare that plaqued my mind for hours before.

Finally standing, I backed away a little as I looked up at him, a giant compared to me. Brushing off my jacket and jeans I assured him I was alright, asking what brought him here.

"The smoke from your smoldering camp fire. I noticed it as I came down the highway, stopped to see it's origin to be sure the forest wasn't about to become a blaze" he'd replied.

"I see" I told him as I kicked dirt over the coals.

"Never put out a fire before have ya son. You really need more than just the dirt. Got any water" he stated.

"No sir" I replied stuffing my hands in my pockets.

"How long you been out here" he questioned looking me up and down.

"Just stopped for the night" I told him.

"Where ya headed, want a ride" he asked.

"I don't know where I'm going, just going" I told him.

"Well, you're welcome to ride along if ya want, it sure beats walking anywhere" he offered "but first let me grab some water from the truck to be sure this fire is out."

I stood by the dwindling embers while he fetched the water, unsure if I should refuse or accept his offer. Watching as he poured the water, my throat so dry I envied the coals beneath being quelled. He must have noticed my reaction then asked if I had any food or water. I said nothing, ashamed I'd not brought provisions for whatever length I'd be traveling. He pushed a bottle towards me, "drink" he demanded. Without hesitation I began to gulp down its contents as he warned me not to drink too fast or I'd be likely to expel it. It felt so damn good as it cooled my throat, my dried lips.

Contemplating his offer I finally decided to accept still feeling weak from the lack of food or water. Opening the door I stepped up into the cab of the rig, the entire life of this highwayman encased in this vehicle. Memorabilia adorned the dash, pictures no doubt of family that brought solice as he traveled the roads. Behind the seats lay a bed, a fan hung from the roof, a book shelf near what appeared to be the head of the bed filled with books. He lifted the console that divided the seat, inside a refrigerator filled with drinks and fruits. He grabbed another water handing it to me along with an apple advising me to eat it and that he would stop at the next diner. I accepted the food, I was hungry, I needed it. However I decided to head out on my own once he stopped.