months had passed since his evening trips began.

tension increased daily.

peace was rare those days, laughter even more so.

she found solace at work.

his actions had profoundly affected his mind, his rest, his sleep.

he did not sleep. he did not rest. he was not well.

rage was his constant companion.

his face was dark, his features angry.

he did not speak.

asking questions was futile.

the situation grew worse.

one morning, an ugly demon took over his body and his voice on the commute to the city.

this demon was fear.

it taunted and threatened her.

she shrunk closer to the passenger door, looking straight ahead.

tears ran down her cheeks as it threatened to throw her out of the car.

she did not respond.

it told her it would make her disappear, that no one would ever find her body or any trace of her.

silently, she thought, ‘jesus, help.’

the tipping point was approaching.

(copyright 2016 jane doe)