[ WP ] Your character is driving down a lonely highway and thought she saw something that makes her question her own sanity .

The only light came from the dim headlights, illuminating the painted yellow dashes speeding along. Driving alone at night gave her a sense of peace. It always satisfied her longing of running away and leaving everything behind. All she had to do was go straight, pass her exit and keep going until she reached a place that didn ’ t remind her of her current life. She never did leave but she always let her mind and heart fly free until she slowed and turned the car into its familiar path back home. Back home to the darkness and empty void that could never be filled with all of the harsh fluorescent lighting. To a bed that was never warmed and now only worn on one side. A home brimming with reminders of the life it once encompassed; while remaining almost untouched, it now reads barren and foreign. 
 
 Startled, her eyes wide, she tried to refocus on the road ahead of her. She had felt that all familiar push. No, she couldn ’ t have, it was impossible. But her back still twitched in reflex. She had felt that once annoying kick to the back of the seat that she now missed so much. She had felt the pressure against her spine forcing her forward. Confident of driving straight once more, she turned her head to look at the seat behind her. Dark and empty, as she knew it would be. But in the corner of her eye she saw her passenger. She twisted back in her seat, staring at her once empty passenger seat, now holding her beloved Matthew. He was n't looking at her but he road, and she followed his gaze. Her exit was approaching. 
 
 Tears lined her eyes at the realization of her return to that lonely house. Matthew and Lucas weren ’ t at her destination, nor were they in her car with her now. How could she feel their presence now? Now, when she dreams of escape she sees them, but not when surrounded by their physical memories. She stared straight down the road, refusing to look in the direction of what must be described as insanity. While stubborn she still tried to reassure herself they weren ’ t there, “ Are you coming home this time? ” She laughed as silence answered her. Of course he wasn ’ t there, neither of them were. She began to accept her irrationality as grief and not insanity. But then she felt his touch. Ever so slight but firm, his fingers running across her cheek. A pause and then what could only be described as the warm embrace of skin and lightly parted lips. Relenting, she woefully turned to her passenger seat, dark and vacant. 
 
 Her tears more robust fell into her lap. She wanted to run, escape this loneliness. She remains haunted by her loss. Any sane person would flee a haunting, move on and start anew. She has returned to her home every night for the past eighteen months; each time expecting to find Matthew and Lucas there once more. That is the definition of insanity is it not. Her mind fluttered with debate. She chose to remain insane, night after night. After all, feeling Lucas kick her seat, seeing Matthew and feeling his kiss, these things aren ’ t grief but a mind that has truly broken. She could try to mend it. Just go straight. Overwhelming depression waits at home, but she was clearly insane. How would running solve anything? Escaping was a chance, she could try again. Just go straight. She would go straight, give herself a fighting chance. She felt sure this time, she would go straight. Her exit upon her, she reached out her hand to grasp where Matthew ’ s had been. She found it and gave it a squeeze. Releasing her foot from the pedal she flipped on her indicator and started to merge. 

