Walking home alone

I was walking home one night after a few drinks with friends. It must have been around four in the morning. Since it wasn't raining and I knew a bad case of the spinning beds would be waiting for me when I did get home, I decided the cool night air combined with the two mile walk would do me good. I couldn't have promised myself that I'd be able to endure the taxi ride alternative without needing to bail out so I said my goodbyes and started on my way.

The fastest way for me to get home involves walking along a towpath for about a mile of the journey. There are no lights and at that hour of the night, there are no other people either. I find it very peaceful normally and before long I found myself trying to think much bigger thoughts than my drunken state allowed for. It was while I was slowly sobering in the pre-dawn mist that I realised this and coming to a complete mental halt for a moment I allowed myself to physically stop as well.

I had just come out of the short tunnel that allows the towpath to continue under the motorway. So deep in thought, I hadn't even noticed my footsteps echoing or the lack of river flowing beside me until now that I was clear of the tunnel and back by it's side in the night air once more.

A tremendous splash startled me and I partially jumped and partially fell into the ditch beside the path away from the river. It was no fish jumping that had made that noise. I tried to see though the darkness and ever thickening ground mist to see what it may have been that caused that sound. I could only see about halfway out across the water and I tried in vain to get my blurry vision to focus so I could see if there were even ripples along the surface of the water or if my drunk ears combined with the increasingly scary surroundings had perhaps magnified the sound of something much smaller.

Hearing and seeing nothing I brushed the dirt off of the knees of my trousers and got back to my suddenly much less clumsy feet. Still feeling ill at ease I started walking again although my pace was now more than double the speed it had been before.

I was within sight of my house half an hour later and I still felt unsettled, but not for any reason I could put my finger on. I had heard a splash in a river. It could have been anything. The sobering effect it had on me was nothing to be laughed at though. I had been drunk and from the moment I heard that sound I was both petrified and it was like every fume of alcohol had left my body all at once.

I reached into my pocket and made a terrible discovery. I had no keys. I knew I had them while with my friends earlier because my key chain had a bottle opener on it which had proved useful. A light drizzle was now setting in and unless I broke a window I only really had one choice. I kicked a stone on the path in my frustration. As the rock hit the river with a much quieter splash I realised when I must have lost my keys and with dread I turned around and started back along the path to retrieve them, grumbling quietly to myself all the way.

As I rounded the bend in the river I was aware that there was a distinct glow emanating from the thick fog that was now soaking my clothes and skin just by walking through it. Still furious at my spate of bad luck I continued until I could hear the sound of the cars on the motorway. The glow I had noticed was different now though, it appeared to change from bright to dull with each step I took. The mist was so thick now that I couldn't even see the river though I knew it was merely a few feet to my left.

Suddenly there was a man in front of me, walking along the path in my direction. He looked like he was in shock. His enormous eyes and raised brow combined with the skyward direction his focus appeared to be trained on. I could see his teeth due to the way his mouth hung slightly open. There was a fine trail of spit dripping from his bottom lip.

Thinking I had come across another drunk merely using the path to get home just as I had earlier I took a step to the right to allow him to pass me, and behind my back I made fists in case they would be necessary. He stumbled and drifted along the path toward me, and like he didn't even see me he passed by. Relieved I started to take another step in my own opposite direction when a hand fell firmly onto my shoulder. I turned quickly and was fully ready to swing if necessary but hoped that it wouldn't be. I didn't need things to get any worse than they already were.

He brought his gaze down slowly and stared deeply into my own eyes. So deep that it felt as though he were looking through me at something much further in the distance behind me. "Yer best not ta head that way mister." His voice was deep and his words weren't slurred at all. "I'm just getting my keys. I dropped them near the tunnel earlier." His eyes never moved from staring at, but somehow past my own. He didn't appear to have heard a word of what I had said. His grip tightened on my shoulder. "Leave em, taint worth it. Nothings worth it." And with that he released his grip, turned, and continued along the path away from the spot where my keys most likely still were.

Feeling worse now than I had before about this backtracking along the river, I knew that regardless of the unease I felt I didn't have a choice in the matter. It was a case of finding the keys or sleeping outside in the rain. The option of breaking a window didn't even register any longer because I knew I would regret it. Taking a deep breath I started along the path again.

The fog continued to brighten and fade, brighten and fade, with every step I took. Less and less was visible through the ever thickening morning fog and the sun rising was only making matters worse. When it got to the stage that I could no longer see my hand in front of my face I knew that finding my keys was going to be even more difficult than I had thought. I was walking with my hands in front of me now, knowing that if I could just find the tunnel I would be able to feel around the ground for the keys.

I slammed my leg into something hard, that I had no way of seeing in the temporarily blinded state I was in. Stopping and immediately bending down to rub at my leg and assess the damage I took advantage of having already bent down to see what it was that had surely bruised my left shinbone.

The culprit had been a very large axle that still had one enormous tyre attached to it. Knowing it hadn't been there earlier I stepped over it wincing a little as my weight shifted onto my sore leg. I took another few cautious steps, wary of the changing colours of the fog. Intense blue light would blind me one second and the intense white of the fog the next. I realised I could see just a little in between the two extremes and as I approached the tunnel I saw that more than just the axle of a lorry now littered the towpath just in front of the tunnel.

The entire broken form was there, laying halfway across the path and partially submerged in the river beyond. Looking up at the bridge I realised the blue flashing fog effect was merely the emergency services vehicles who obviously had quite an accident on their hands. I could see now that the lorry must have broken the front axle and fallen off of the bridge over the river and I thanked the powers that be for having me out of here before it happened.

The windscreen was just in front of me and I leaned forward to see inside of it, wondering if I could assist in some way since the flashing lights were all concentrated on the overpass and didn't appear to have made it down to the towpath as of yet. I leaned in and tried to time trying to actually see anything to that fleeting second between the flashing blue lights. I cupped my hands to the sides of my eyes and pressed against the glass and it worked wonders.

For there in front of me, staring into my own eyes and appearing to look beyond them were the eyes of the man I has mistaken for a drunk only moments ago. He looked exactly as he did on the path and I wondered how he possibly could have gotten back into his truck so quickly without passing me. I tapped the glass and tried to figure out how I could get inside, or how he did for that matter. The angle that the vehicle was laying at appeared to make it impossible. I looked again and he still stared at me, through me even. And I noticed he hadn't moved; had not so much as blinked, and despite his face being close to the glass it wasn't fogged as it should have been from his breath.

In a panic I took a few steps backwards trying to figure out just what this meant. Was the man dead? Had I honestly seen a ghost along the path? I looked up at the overpass and saw the hanging remains of the guard rail, having been no match for the lorry. I only wanted to find my keys and this night just seemed to be getting worse. I vowed to take the taxi next time I went for a drink.

A terrible screeching sound hit my ears then and I had only a moment to look upwards and see the white ford escort falling directly above me. I could only look up into the startled faces of the two teenagers in the front seat as they came closer. I screamed and tried in vain to put my arms up and protect myself, knowing I didn't have enough time to move out of the way. I felt the warmth of my own blood pouring down my legs as the front of the car crushed my abdomen against the lorry.