On Monday April 5th, my grandmother was a victim of a carjacking in her own driveway. One of the individuals (there were 4) was brandishing a spiked lawn decoration as a weapon. She begged them to return her purse which had all of her credit cards, license, phone, and other belongings but they refused. They drove off and then totaled her vehicle. Her insurance will cover the payments on her old car, but won’t help pay for for a new one. And so I’ve started a GoFundMe to help get her a new car paid in full so she has one less thing to worry about. Please. She feels scared in her own home and at 74 years old by herself, that’s something she should never have to experience. She’s always given back to her community and taken care of her family. She’s like a mother to me and I want to give back to her. If you can help, please consider donating however much you can, even if it’s only a dollar. Every little bit helps. If you can’t donate, that’s ok as I know times are hard. But please help me to help her. Share this around as much as you can. I’ll never be able to repay her for all she’s done for me but if I can at least do this, that’ll put her mind to ease in a small way.
A song played low in the radio, filling the silence between the vehicle’s two occupants, though nether were listening. The highway was empty, as roads tended to be at 3am, save the occasional truck lumbering in the right lane.
Their hands shifted on the steering wheel, sweaty, numb from how tightly they’d been squeezing. Their eyes shifted to the rear view mirror for the thousand time, as if the intruder in the back seat would disappear, as suddenly as they’d appeared.
In fading baths of light, the interstate lights silhouetted their figure. Exposing a sharp jaw line, inky black clothes, and of course, the gun in their right hand. The intruder was seated with their back to the door, legs thrown over the backseats. A glowing cigarette raised to their lips by the hand not holding the gun. As much as the driver hated people smoking in their car, it was the least of their worries right now.
As if they could feel their attention, the intruder looked up, meeting their eyes in the mirror.
“Eyes on the road.”
On command, the driver’s eyes darted back to the highway stretching endlessly before their headlights.
“Wh-where,” their voice cracked, the leather steering wheel creaked as their hands twisted. They cleared their throat. “Where are we going?”
