The Road Became More Isolated
The houses disappeared.
Then the businesses disappeared.
Eventually there were only fields.
The road narrowed.
There were no sidewalks.
No streetlights.
No nearby buildings.
I looked at my daughter.
She wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Where are we going?" I asked again.
My son gripped the steering wheel.
"Mom, don't make this harder than it needs to be."
"What does that mean?"
He didn't answer.
A few minutes later, he pulled the SUV onto the side of the road.
The engine continued running.
I looked around.
There was nothing nearby except farmland.
Then my son turned toward me.
His expression was strangely calm.
"This is where you get out."
For a second, I thought I had misunderstood him.
"What?"
"This is where you get out."
I looked at my daughter.
She stared straight ahead.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
Nobody laughed.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"You brought me out here to leave me?"
My son shook his head.
"You're making this dramatic."
"Dramatic?"
"We can't keep dealing with this."
"Dealing with what?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he unlocked the door.
