Commiseration

I'll never be the same after what happened today. How can I tell you about it without sounding dramatic? I haven't figured out how to do that yet. It's still too fresh in my mind, and I'm still processing it myself. But I have to tell someone. Maybe by talking about it, it will move out of the category of the macabre, and begin to seem somewhat normal? I don't know how. But I've got to try.

The cold rain's been falling all day, icy drops whipped by the howling wind to slap across your cheeks. I was driving to work when I first noticed the car behind me. One minute it wasn't there, and the next it was impatiently trying to pass. Yes, I was going the speed limit. Who tries to pass in this kind of weather anyway? So, I slowed down and edged over enough to hit the rumble strip. The driver passed, leaning on his horn. In a split second of recognition, I saw his face. I don't know how he found me after a year and a half, but it was my husband. I know it was. I've spent the last 17 months trying to forget those 10 years of abuse, but the scars will always be there.

About 4 miles down the road, there it was again. I watched as he tried to pass again, then in slow motion (or maybe that's the way my memory replays it) he staying in the oncoming traffic lane as he started up the hill and there, there at the top was an oncoming semi. No time to move over now. No place to go except down a steep embankment. My heart was pounding even as I felt chilled to the bone. I didn't want to stop to see if he was okay. I have to keep running now. My phone has been ringing all day. I know my boss is frantic that I didn't show for my shift. But I can't leave any clues.

What should I do? I'm scared, worried that he survived and he'll track me down. I don't know what to do.