What would you do for a beautiful girl?

She’s within arms reach. Right by your side across the hand break of the car. She’s singing along to pop music from the radio, can’t remember half the words and voice breaking on the high notes. Her curls dance around her face from the rushing wind through the open windows. The roar of the wind almost drowns out the radio, but you’re not listening to it anyway. You’re listening to her.

She turns to you and smiles. The streetlights whipping past catch in her eyes as she turns, and they sparkle. You’re the only person in that car, you’re the only person in the world. 

Your heart is beating fast. She presses on the accelerator and the car goes faster; your heart goes with it. 

You should look away, look at the road ahead. But you already know it’s empty. It’s empty and dark and there is no one for miles. But she’s right there. And you can’t stop looking. 

You can smell roses, and you know you will live the rest of your life smelling roses and thinking of her. The scent that clings to her skin and hair and wraps around you and drags you in. 

Her lips are full and pink and you wonder what she tastes like. Sweet. Like the sugar coated sweets she always has a secret stash of in her pockets. No…. bitter. Like saying goodbye to your first best friend or losing at something you thought you would win. She bites her lip like she can hear your thoughts and all you can think is, god I wish that were me.

The car keeps driving, the wind keeps roaring, and she turns the radio up just a little more and sings a little louder. You still can’t look away from the delicate curve of her jaw and the way she bops her head to the song.

What would you do for a beautiful girl?

Would you die for her?

She turns to smile at you again. Your breath gets stuck somewhere in your throat as she reaches out and glides a finger under your chin. And she winks at you. Right before she turns back to the road, you see it in the corner of her smile. Something terrifying that makes you feel like you’re falling off a cliff. 

You know there are no stars in the sky tonight. The moon is hidden by clouds. The car is racing along smooth tarmac, the world passing you by. There is no one around for miles. Just you and the beautiful girl driving, and the body in the backseat. 

You can’t look away from her pale features. You don’t let your eyes stray behind you, to bound wrists and unseeing eyes. If you look at the road, you’ll think about where you’re going and why you’re driving so fast and you aren’t ready for that yet.

You concentrate on the smell of roses and not the decay that is becoming stronger with every passing mile. Not on the stench of alcohol that you know you’ll never forget for as long as you exist. You cannot taste anything except the growing fear that rises from your stomach. The thumping of your heart feels permanent. It’s always like that around her, but now it won’t stop.

You look at her, and watch the way her mouth forms around the chorus of another song. You let the wind whip your hair too, your hands feel too heavy to move from your lap. You don’t think you could form words even if you tried, and you haven’t tried.

She reaches out and holds your hand in hers. Like your hand doesn’t weigh the hundred stone you feel it does. She rubs a thumb over the back of your hand. You glance down, your hands have matching bloodstains and you wonder if that’s as unlucky as matching tattoos. 

She squeezes your hand once, twice, three times. And you look back up at her again. You can see the smudge of red on her neck, her feral grin, the sparkle in her eyes. And you squeeze her hand back. Your heart settles in your chest. You didn’t even need to be asked twice.

What would you do for a beautiful girl?

Would you die for her?

Better yet, would you kill for her?