8 May 2012
Cara had the windows down- her long, sun-streaked hair loose and whipping at her face in the wind. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the wheel with intensity and purpose. She had somewhere to go, somewhere to be. Cara stopped the cramped pale green Volkswagen at a red light and shifted her eyes from the dirt road before her to the dark blue water to her right. The Atlantic was bustling with crashing white waves, whining seagulls, and the tips of dolphin fins or worse. This ocean was her home. The light turned green, but Cara stayed paused, staring out at the water. No one would pull up to the light beside her for at least ten minutes. Hardly anyone used this deserted road any longer. It was dusty, worn, and forgotten. Or so Cara supposed. She was too intent on watching a gull pick at it's dinner on the shore to notice the large red truck barreling along behind her stopped car. It was a surprisingly silent truck, and the only noise coming from it was a slight rumble and the distant shrieks of what sounded like panicky words such as "Help!", and "No brakes!" No brakes. If Cara's blonde head would have turned around, she would have seen the thin black girl with her hands out the window, making these high pitched, warning remarks to other drivers. Cara, however, was the only driver on the road, and she was completely caught up in her own daydreams.
The sun was starting to set, and suddenly, a crash befell upon the earth. It shook the ground, awoke the sleepers, and turned the soil. No brakes.
Cara | Part One • Opuss № I