A horrible accident? No, even the casual passerby who knew very little about cars would have to think that this destruction is far too thorough to have happened by coincidence. Of course, at this time of night, this far out in the country, there aren't likely to be any passersby, not until tomorrow morning, bright and early.
Before we start on how the truck was uncovered, however, let us begin at the beginning, with how the truck came to be by the side of the road in the first place. The beginning, as it happens, is the story of a seventeen-year-old girl named Lizzy.
*******
Lizzy's headphones are turned up a bit too loud. She knows it's bad for her ears, knows all the statistics of teenage hearing loss, but right now she doesn't care. She needs the music, like it were food or water. She needs it to block out the world around her, just for a while.
She walks down the street, past the place where--
"Lizzy! Hey! Lizzy!"
She turns up the volume another notch or two and quickens her pace. She doesn't want to talk to anyone, not here, not now, especially not after--
A hand on her shoulder. She shakes it off, dislodging one ear bud in the process. She can't pretend to ignore him now.
"What do you want, Owen." Her voice is devoid of emotion, but her icy gaze makes it clear that she would rather be anywhere else, talking to anyone else.
"Look, Lizzy, this is getting ridiculous. I know you're mad about September. I suppose you have every reason to be, but..."
"But what?" Lizzy practically spits out the words. "My house is empty, Owen, and you can thank yourself and that group of dirty, rotten, no-good troublemakers you call your friends."
Owen winces. "I haven't associated with Garth or Paul or TJ in months. What do you want me to do?"
"Go away." Lizzy answered instantly and held up a hand before he could say anything else. "You might not be friends with them any more, but you were friends with them when it mattered."
"Everyone makes mistakes!"
"Yes, and mistakes have consequences. In this case, those consequences were my parents, and I don't want anything like that to every happen again. Now go away."
...
Oops. I seem to have made an error. This is not, in fact, the beginning.
She walks down the street, past the place where--
"Lizzy! Hey! Lizzy!"
She turns up the volume another notch or two and quickens her pace. She doesn't want to talk to anyone, not here, not now, especially not after--
A hand on her shoulder. She shakes it off, dislodging one ear bud in the process. She can't pretend to ignore him now.
"What do you want, Owen." Her voice is devoid of emotion, but her icy gaze makes it clear that she would rather be anywhere else, talking to anyone else.
"Look, Lizzy, this is getting ridiculous. I know you're mad about September. I suppose you have every reason to be, but..."
"But what?" Lizzy practically spits out the words. "My house is empty, Owen, and you can thank yourself and that group of dirty, rotten, no-good troublemakers you call your friends."
Owen winces. "I haven't associated with Garth or Paul or TJ in months. What do you want me to do?"
"Go away." Lizzy answered instantly and held up a hand before he could say anything else. "You might not be friends with them any more, but you were friends with them when it mattered."
"Everyone makes mistakes!"
"Yes, and mistakes have consequences. In this case, those consequences were my parents, and I don't want anything like that to every happen again. Now go away."
...
Oops. I seem to have made an error. This is not, in fact, the beginning.
