I am driving down a long and gradual hill so I have to be careful of my speed. Watching the gauge, now. Watching the gauge tick up and slowing down a little. Slowing down too much; but I must slow down, so it is all right. My foot is heavy. Going down a long, long hill that must be almost done, now. The hill will level out, I’m sure, even though it hasn’t. I’ve been sure it would level out. No trees. No trees as far as I can see with my brights on, just pasture and sky. Staying awake now. Staying awake because if I don’t, I will just go faster and faster. Watching the gauge tick up again and slowing down. Swaying forward because my arms are tired. I’m so tired, but my eyes are still open. They are open and I am going down this gradual hill that I am sure will end soon. My foot is heavy. Each time I put it on the floor, away from the pedals, my palms get sweaty and I start to panic, so I keep my foot over the brake. I need to compose myself. Hovering over the brake, now. It’s a dizzy kind of tired. A kind of tired where I feel like a hand is pulling my brain out of the back of my skull. There’s an exit to pull off now, but I can’t pull off because it’s not a place with a gas station or a rest stop and I can’t be on the side of the road. Maybe there is a rest station or a gas stop there and it’s just not on the sign. It’s too dangerous to sleep on the side of the road. Besides, there are places I need to be, and my granddaughter is graduating high school. She’s graduating high school and going far away. She’s graduating high school and then going a long ways away and I am going to be there—except this hill, how is this hill still going? I don’t understand and I’m going far too fast. I should round this corner slowly, now. It’s straight again, but we’re still going down. The hill wasn’t that bad. Actually, I thought it would be much worse, but it wasn’t that bad at all. Imagine if I fell asleep and was going 75 miles-per-hour. I would go right off the road into the field. And it’s starting again now: those things in the corner of my eye that I see moving rapidly towards the middle of my vision. From eye strain, I have been told. And my eyes have been straining for a long time tonight; they’ve been getting much worse; they’ve been making it hard to read anything, let alone signs. It probably was a gas station or a rest station that I had missed at that exit. These figures look like people but longer; they’re hard to make out. I don’t drive at night. I never drive at night unless there is something very important. There is something important, but I’m slowing down now, and the hill is getting steeper, so I must be careful about this speed because I can’t focus on anything. This dizziness. It’s shimmering on the edge of my vision, now: underwater-like, ocean-like. I didn’t know there were hills this long in northern Nebraska. I didn’t know there were hills this steep. I didn’t know that. It is getting steeper. Another exit goes by, and the exit is at this angle because of the steepness, like a car could flip and roll off of the cross-sectional road. My only granddaughter is moving away to teach English in Japan. Can’t imagine it: her moving away. Of course I am upset about this. Of course I am. Always upset about something, Todd says. But I’ve taken the time to compose my life, so I am going to the graduation. Of course I am going to the graduation because she is my granddaughter and I should go to the graduation. After all that has happened, I still should be able to see this graduation—but I’m going way too fast now. Going 90 miles per hour down the road and approaching another soft turn which I must take (which I should be able to take at this speed) slowly, so I slow down. I need to be more careful about this. Being tired. Being so tired my whole body hurts in a dizzy tingling sort of way. Maybe I should turn off the road now. I should now, but there is nowhere to turn off so I can’t. I wish I could but I can’t, and that’s okay because I can keep driving if I need to. I can drive all the way to wherever I need to be. Another form jumps out into the road and then disappears as my vision adjusts to focus on it. This is quite a hill. I’ve only seen a couple of hills like this, like the one at the house Todd grew up in. Like the house Penelope and I bought after getting married. Getting married. Todd says that is such a weird word for Penelope and I: marriage. And Todd’s daughter is graduating now. My granddaughter is graduating tomorrow and I can go to it. I will go to it. My granddaughter. Graduating. I haven’t seen her for a year. I haven’t seen her for two years, I’m sure, but it feels like a year. Getting tired of driving, now. I should rest my foot on top of the brake. Not braking, just with my foot resting on it. It’s a little rest for my foot now. When I do, the car slows down, and that’s okay. Going too fast, anyway. This is the steepest hill I have ever seen. I am sure no hill is this steep in Nebraska and certainly no road that would go straight down a hill like this. Maybe I’m so tired that it has begun to look like this. An empty chasm. Maybe it feels like this but isn’t like this. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an exit ramp. How long has it been since I’ve seen an exit ramp? Probably a long time, but I’m not sure. I’m sure that I could stop on the shoulder of the highway and rest. I feel all wrong. Tired. But this hill is so steep that I don’t know what would happen. If I did stop, my car would definitely tumble down the road and into the night. This is like a cliff and I am somehow driving down it. How am I driving down it? If I stop driving, I will obviously begin tumbling down this hill. I don’t want to tumble down this hill because I can’t see the ground at the bottom. It can’t be a cliff because it looks like there is sky at the bottom. Looks like a horizon. My hands are so sweaty and I’m almost too scared to keep looking out the windshield. Maybe the horizon has always been like this and I just haven’t noticed it. I have been so tired. I think it must have been like this and I just hadn’t noticed it. My body is so tense now. I have to brace against the steering wheel to stop myself from slamming against the windshield. Maybe I can turn around and go back up the hill. But if I tried that I would surely run off the road. I can’t slow down now, however hard I try. It’s straight down and I am going faster. If there were to be a gentle turn now, I would go right off the road. Maybe there was a rest stop back there and I just missed it. I should have taken the exit to see. There is no hill like this in the whole world. Yes, I am sure there is no hill like this because I can feel that it is getting even steeper. It’s not straight down now, but it’s angled as if I am going up a hill but I am still going faster. I must be past going straight down. I think I am being pulled to the top of the car now. I think it is going kind of upside down. I am sure that I’m going upside down because it is what I feel. Maybe that means I could go turn around, but if I try to turn around, I will obviously go off of the road. But why would I go off of the road? Why would anything reasonable happen? Nothing reasonable is happening now. I should do it. I could do it. I could, but I am too scared. Always too scared to try. Another figure in the road, and I go through it without noticing it is there. I go right past it. I go right past it and then I notice it was there. It’s less frightening realizing you see something like that once I’ve already gone through it with the car. Know for sure it isn’t real. It’s just a trick. My strained eyes. Maybe I should pull the emergency brake. What would happen if I pulled the emergency brake? Would the car stop or would the brake be destroyed? And my regular brake must be broken because it isn’t working, so maybe I am going too fast. It must have snapped right off. Maybe I could put the car in park, but what would happen? It is best to ride it out. It looks like it is getting less steep, but it must be getting steeper because we are going even faster and I am being pulled up. The seatbelt is pushing against me or I am pushing against it. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to the graduation. Shouldn’t have taken these roads. There is something wrong with these roads. I’m awake now, not tired at all. I shouldn’t have gone to the graduation at all. Should have listened to Todd when he told me. But I’ve composed myself over the years. I’ve composed myself. I’ve picked myself back up. I could have gone. Shouldn’t have gone. Should have listened when he said it would be a bad idea. But I’m going, I said. I said that I deserved to see my granddaughter graduate. It is cruel to not allow that to happen. It would be something for the heart, now. Seeing her walk would be something for the heart. And I don’t tell him sorry, of course there is no value in that: saying sorry. No value in it now, but I deserve at least this, so I decided to go and watch and have something for my heart. I shouldn’t have gone. I am so scared now. My heart is beating so fast and my palms are sweating. Nothing I can do but try to compose myself and think. Just think about something I can do to make the car slow down. Even though the road is leveling, this car is going so fast that I can’t control it. I don’t know how fast I am going and without this seatbelt I would be on the roof. I am sure I would be on the roof because it’s like the earth is upside down, now. It’s like the earth is upside down but it’s still going down now. It feels more like up. I have to hang on. I have to compose myself. Another figure way out in the distance. I can see it in color, even so far away. The other figures are never in color. Why can I see it at all from so far away? I think it is a person. Yes, it is a person. How a person could stand in the road upside down is beyond me, but I am going to hit them. They must be another of the eye strain tricks. I will move right through them. Except now it seems different. A blue shirt. They are wearing a blue shirt. I think it is the blue shirt that I am wearing now, but it looks too big on them. It is so hard to see. It is so fuzzy but it is definitely my blue tee shirt. It looks like a dress on their body. I am getting closer now and I am still going down (or maybe it is up, maybe I will be back up again and the hill is a look, but I’m not slowing down, I don’t think this could be true) and they notice me. They definitely seem real, but what are they? Too late to move away, so I will hit them; too still to be a hallucination, so they are real. My eyes are so tired. I will hit them. Hit that face. That face. My eyes are so tired. I haven’t seen that face in a year. I haven’t seen that face in two years, though I pictured it as I told Todd that I would be there for the graduation. I would be going because my only granddaughter is going away. And it’s not every day your granddaughter graduates. Not every day your granddaughter graduates from high school, I said. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her, and for sure it will be something for the heart, now.
Macy Craig lives in Missouri. She has had stories appear in Burial Magazine, Midcult*, and BRUISER, among others.