the stillness of a late night
was broken by distant headlights
approaching in my rearview mirror,
out the open window of a chevy truck
he sliced the night air
with the edges of a switchblade
the truck appeared beside my car
and that two men laughed at my terrified face
my hands squeezed the horn
and it blew deep into the night.
my speedometer read 77 miles per hour
and increasing yet his arms, the knife
and their voices stayed with me.
a scream swallowed my voice and i choked
as the two men passed me, crossed my path
and skidded to a stop.
my wheels squealed, engine died
i turned the keys, pumped the gas
and found no escape.
doors locked, windows up, horn blowing
on a hot san antonio night.
one man flew out of the white truck,
threw his body on my car, against my car
trying to find a path into my car,
to carry out his threats.
his shoulder smashed, smashed against my window
glass crackled, horn blew, cars passed
apartment lights stayed off
and i, alone, sat and rocked,
screamed and watched the glimmer
of his switchblade as he carved into my windshield.
then silence, he was gone, lights flickered
as the truck crashed into my car, body jolted,
hands bent back against the horn,
I sat on the cold floor of the grocery store
just four minutes from home
beside the bubble gum machines
repeating the license plate number aloud.
© Kayla Fioravanti