Ruby Reed

The car door slammed in my face, making me flinch.
I slouched down in my seat, as the driver got in the front; Rachel, my care worker. She turned the car on and glanced at me in the rear view mirror, looking worried.
I turned my head towards the window; it was raining. I watched the raindrops slide down the window, collecting more and more droplets until they disappeared at the bottom of the window. The sound was soothing and I listened to the wind outside, trying to find a way into the car.
I watched as we drove through the neighbourhoods, not recognising anything. I used to live here though, this had been my home for fifteen years. Closing my eyes, I tried to remember for the hundredth time, but the oldest memory I had was that of waking up in hospital alone.


*

I must have drifted off to sleep, because when I woke up, it was dark out. The radio was playing pop songs quietly and Rachel was humming softly along as she drove along an empty road.
I coughed quietly to get her attention.
Rachel jumped and quickly turned the radio off, glimpsing at me quickly.
“Are you alright, Rubes? Fancy a little stop? It's getting late,” she looked up at the starry night and visibly shivered even though the heating was on.
I sighed in response and Rachel turned into a diner's car park that we were coming up to. It was mostly empty, apart from the few trucks with men leant up against them smoking, wearing those stupid trucker hats. They stared at our tiny car as we drove past, puffing smoke in a hostile way.
The car stopped and I stared at the diner. It had the typical stools at the counter, a waitress with bright red lipstick and tables by the windows. The neon lights lit up the deserted stretch of road and I looked back from where we had come. Darkness.
Rachel shut the engine off and turned to face me, smiley.
“What d'you fancy, Rube?” she asked.
“Just some fries please,” it was the first time I had spoken all day, and Rachel paused before replying.
“Alright then, want me to bring them back to the car?”
I smiled a yes and then looked out of the window towards the truckers. I heard the car door bang shut and let out a sigh. One trucker had ginger hair and a bristly beard, wearing a lumberjack shirt like mine, except mine was yellow and black and from a thrift store. He was wearing worn boots and looked at me from under his cap. I smiled and he quickly stubbed out his cigarette, then climbed back into his truck.