The Stories
Aubrey
- Details
- Category: Characters
- Published on Wednesday, 25 January 2012 04:44
- Written by The Cosmos
- Hits: 5693
She remembered the accident, the sound of steel scraping steal, the car folding in on itself around her seemingly as if in slow motion. She hadn't been drunk or high...this time. She lay in the hospital bed trying to remember for weeks and still had very little. She'd been airlifted to a DC hospital. Where she'd been put back together, except for a scar on her face that the plastic surgeon had said there was nothing he could do for it. He'd sewn up the jagged cut and she'd have to live with it. She supposed it was just something else she'd have to learn to live with. She knew her name was Aubrey and where she lived but only because her driver's license said so. Her doctors had sent her home saying that there was nothing more they could do for her.
The first thing she'd done was hit a bank. The bank card in her purse told her which one. She'd pulled enough money to take a bus from DC to Culpeper and then she'd walked from the station to her apartment. Her keys had been returned to her along with everything else she'd had in her car. It wasn't much but it was a place to start. She'd already discovered she hated Country music. The police had filled in the blanks for her as far as the accident went. She'd been traveling toward home from DC when the accident happened. A drunk driver had crossed the median traveling at an estimated 60 miles per hour. He hit her and she'd been sent rolling into the swale at the side of the road. The only reason they said she was still alive was because she'd had on her seat belt and the car she'd been driving was a 1970 Cadillac Coupe Deville, that had been virtually destroyed. On the up side she had no clue why she was driving *that* thing. The officer had used the terms "huge" and "land yacht". To describe it.
She'd stopped in the visitor's center and grabbed a map of the city and made her way to the address on her license. It was where she should start and she needed to drop of the duffel bag she carried, before making her way around the place. She took a deep breath as she fit the key into the lock, unsure of what she'd find. She was pretty sure she lived alone. If she didn't someone would have been looking for her. She entered the apartment and looked around at an eclectic mix of modern, antique, and somewhat shabby furniture. She spent the next hour familiarizing herself with the layout of the apartment and the kitchen. She must cook.. she wasn't sure but she didn't see herself going out to dinner every night either. She seemed to be healthy and physically fit. She found food in the kitchen, in the fridge she found spoiled food and vegetables that had gone bad. She found she had an urge to deal with that mess right away and spent the next hour or so doing that. When she took out the trash she saw one of her neighbors, he looked at her funny when she asked where the dumpster was, but told her. She also discovered the mailboxes and he told her that the super had her mail that had over flowed the box. Aubrey nodded and could tell the guy wanted to ask about her face but was too polite to do so. He did ask where she'd been for almost a month. She answered DC and left it at that. She'd collected her mail, sat down on the floor and written out bills, she figured the waitressing gig she had at the Rock Bottom was over. She shook her head, and looked through the rest of her stubs. She found one for another job at the community center counseling teens.
She shook her head. Apparently she was a work horse as well. She listened to the messages on her phone. Friends wondering where she was, she could hear them getting more concerned as time passed. There was a final call wanting to know if she was coming to the show Friday at Rock Bottom. Aubrey smiled and decided that she would go to the show. She stood and headed into the bedroom to plan her outfit for her debut.