I'll Never Forgive You for This

I looked at the numbers that glowed on the dashboard of the car. It read 2:08 AM. Four more hours of driving, and we'd be back home. They would all wake up around 6 AM, and they'd be greeted by the house. We'd quickly drop everything off, dump it all in the living room to unpack later, and then head back out to get IHOP for breakfast. The girls would be stoked.

I glanced up into the rearview mirror to gaze at my girls. All three of them leaned on each other for support as they slept. Their snores seemed loud from being in such a small space. I would love to turn on the radio at this time, but I couldn't afford to wake them.

I yawned, my jaw aching and beginning to lock from how many times I'd done it. I glanced at my wife sleeping in the passenger seat. Her head was turned away from me as she leaned gently against the window. But the glass still reflected her face. A part of me wished she were awake so I could gloat.

She wanted to sleep in at a hotel and then begin the drive home at 6 AM. Her reason was that she was worried about me. I had been driving for nearly seven hours by that point. And before then, we'd had a late night's sleep, as the girls wanted to watch the last four episodes of a TV show before going to bed. It was the series finale, so I couldn't blame them.

And while I am happy my wife worried for my well-being, a part of me felt as if she thought I couldn't make the drive. So what if I only got three hours of sleep? It was only driving. It was nothing I hadn't done before.

I examined the road that lay before me. It was completely empty. Who would I even run into?

I glanced at the clock again. 2:10 AM. At this hour? There wouldn't be anyone on the road at this time. This was the perfect time to be driving if you were to worry about your safety. In fact, I could speed if I wanted to. I should, just to prove it.

I stepped on the gas pedal, increasing my speed by a few miles. 70. 71. 72. 73. Should I push it? I could. If we went to 80, we could make great time. We might even get there before 6 AM. Then I could catch a nap real quick.

If I did, then hopefully I wouldn't be irritable at IHOP. That would be such a bummer for everyone, especially the girls. They for sure know that their father gets real heated when he doesn't sleep. They already make fun of my bloodshot eyes and my snoring. In fact, if I were to catch a nap, they might draw weird shit on my face. And my wife would do nothing to stop them. I could see it plain as day. She would probably laugh. That's right, beautiful, laugh it all up. We'll see how funny you find it all when I tickle your sides. We'll see how much everyone will be laughing when I grab the string cheese and aim it.

A jolt made me jump up in my seat. I snapped open my eyes when I realized I couldn't see anything. The bright headlights almost blinded me. I had to squint. My eyes adjusted, allowing me to see that they were blazing against a tree. I gasped and turned the wheel hard to avoid it. I heard the thunk as it couldn't turn any farther.

The car spun, getting me out of the line of attack. But the car itself did not get out of the way. The spin of avoidance merely replaced the front with the back as the place of impact.

Why didn't I think about that when I turned the wheel? But could I do anything about it now? I already knew the answer. I looked at the clock. It read 2:12 AM. Two minutes. I fell asleep for two minutes. The tree closed in, the pattern of the bark almost distinguishable even in the darkness of the early morning.

The car's slide toward the tree slowed as I made out how close we were. For a moment, I thought we were saved. But then I realized the world around me had slowed to a stop. The snoring died away, and the screeching of the car became silent. The only thing I could hear was my breathing. But everyone's hair and bodies were also still angled in the opposite direction of the tree, as if they froze.

The tree was seconds away. So close, I could reach out and brush my fingertips against it. I looked in the rearview mirror at the ones who would suffer for those two minutes.

The girls were still sleeping. They were so deep into sleep that they were too far away to be disturbed by the sharp movements of me trying to frantically save my own skin.

“Why?” A voice spoke up suddenly. Its tone was flat, almost emotionless, were it not for the subtle stiffness of anger it held.

I didn't answer readily. The person who spoke took that time to ask again.

“Why?” He repeated.

I could only see the eyes in the mirror. My eyes. Reflecting back at me and angrily contrasting what was sure to be my pit of despair.

“Why get us into this situation?” The man in the mirror asked with the same angry undertone.

“I didn't,” I finally responded.

“I didn't”? That wasn't correct.

“I didn't mean to.” Is that what I meant to state? That was more accurate.

“But you did,” the man snarled back.

“I didn't mean to,” I replied.

“And yet we're in this state because of you,” the man said. “A situation we can't fix.”

I was silent once again. I didn't mean to get us into this. I wanted to get home on time so I could eat IHOP with my family and then sleep away the rest of the day. I wanted this final week of summer to last just a smidge longer before we all had to get back to work. But... look where my haste got us.

“We could've just spent the night at a hotel. Like she said we should have.” The reflection's voice was no longer expressionless. It was heavy and low with disappointment and rage. It made my chest squeeze.

“I just... I just wanted to get us home,” I replied, my voice shaking.

“We would've,” the reflection responded. “We would've eventually.”

I stayed quiet. Nothing more could be said from me. I turned my attention to the girls who sat behind my head. The one on the left. My oldest. The one closest to the tree. I looked back at myself to see the eyes also shift into place to stare back at me. He had glanced at them too. His eyes now shone vibrant with roiling anger.

“I'll never forgive you for this,” the reflection growled.

Suddenly, I could hear everything again. I fell asleep for two minutes, and in one second, my entire life will change.

I closed my eyes and winced as I heard the car beginning to dent against the tree.