The Road-Personal Narrative

The young woman's arm lay out of her car's window, the wind helped by the speed she was driving at, carried her arm back, the rush of the fresh air made the hairs on her arm stand up. But this was a feeling she was loving. The feeling of freedom on an empty and open road.
Her eyes were fixed on the empty stretch of road in front of her, fully knowing that anything could happen ahead without warning, despite empty road conditions. This road led to her old home but at this moment, none of that mattered, in this moment she was chasing after the setting sun.

For her the car was almost too quite; the only sounds were the peaceful and content whining of her two dogs sleeping in the back seats and the constant and rhythmic sounds of her fingers …show more content…
Her eyes were fixed, almost entirely on the road, besides a number of glances into her mirror to check on the sleeping dogs behind her.
A small red light lit up on the control panel. The car was running low on fuel. She was at least twelve hours away from the destination because she had the urge to go to the country's biggest random statue. This disappointing adventure put her a day off course, so she had to make up by driving through the night and only stop when she absolutely needed to.
She looked as far down the road as she could and saw a small set of street lights lighting up a small area. She continued driving towards these lights, hoping there was a fuel station.
Approaching the lights, she slowed down to a cruising speed, in order to correctly assess her current situation. The fuel station was small, there were only two sets of fuel pumps and a small store to pay in. It didn't look like it was the safest place for anyone to be at this time of the night, particularly a young woman. However, this was probably the only station for a number of miles and her car wouldn't make it much …show more content…
She unbuckled her belt and reached over to her glove box. Opening it, she pulled out her sidepiece. For a brief minute she checked it out, making sure that there was a full clip of ammo and one in the chamber, ready if she needed it. Lifting up the back of her flannel shirt and the underneath tee-shirt, she placed the loaded firearm in the waistband of her jean shorts. She was really beginning to regret wearing these shorts because of how cold it was at night time outside of her car, and the thin pair of tights she was wearing weren't going to be much