The night air was humid and sticky. As he walked up to his car, he felt a familiar emotion come over him. It wasn't his first car, but it was definitely the first one he actually wanted.
Do I care about this car? If so how much do I care about it? He took his key out and pressed it up against the car's paint. Could he. . .no. No he couldn't. He couldn't just key his own car. It was financially unsound, he'd have to just get it repainted again, and that would come out of his own. . .
A smile came over his face. He pressed the key harder and began dragging it over his car. I don't care about this car, or the money the paint job will cost. . .in fact. . .
He got into the car, started it up, and peeled out as he took off up the road. At the end of his street, he could see a red traffic light. He started to press the brake. His eyes narrowed as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and shifted his foot to the gas. The tachometer showed his rising rpms as the car shot forward into the oncoming traffic.
He braced for an impact, but suprisingly all the other cars around him stopped to avoid hitting him. Two cars swerved, and crashed together in his rearview mirror. He laughed as he realized that they cared.
As long as everyone else cares, I don't have to. I can do whatever I want, and everyone else will bend to my rules, just to avoid breaking their own. This is incredible. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't mind having fifteen thousand dollars in cash. He ripped the steering wheel hard right.
The car careened off the road and smashed into a telephone pole. Metal wrapped itself into a tight hug around the wooden pole. Smoke and steam filled the air. His world spun as he tried to find his seat belt.
That was definitely not one of my brightest moments. Apparently I care about living. Of course, I have to. If I didn't care about living, then not caring wouldn't matter very much anyway.
He coughed and wasn't surprised to see blood spurt out of his mouth. "Great. Just what I wanted. Internal bleeding," he said out loud. He crawled out of the wreckage in just enough time to see the ambulance, police, and fire truck pull up. Paramedics rushed towards him. The world spun again.
Yeah, this was stupid.
He pushed away the paramedics who were trying to get him to lay still on the ground and stumbled off into the night, away from the car, away from the accident, away from the commotion. A hand grabbed him.
"Sir, sir, you need to sit down here, on the ground, and be still. You've just been in a horrible accident. Have you been drinking sir? What caused this accident?"
"I didn't care."
"Excuse me sir."
"I said I DON'T care! Now let go of my arm."
"Sir, you have to sit still. . ."
"What do I have to say to get you to leave me alone? I know. I don't have health insurance, and its a good chance that you won't be getting paid for all this sympathy. How about that? Hmm? Hmm? Oh now you want to leave me alone? Because there's no money involved?"
"No sir, because you're acting irrationally. I'm backing away for my own safety."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Why don't you go write up a report saying I refused help."
The paramedic walked away, slowly, as if something weren't right, but he couldn't do anything about it. Something was strange about this one, as if he were possessed with something.
He finally sat down to make the world stop moving. It felt a little better, but now he had a burning in his chest. But that wouldn't stop him. Not tonight. Some doctor could look him over in the morning. Right now, he still had more to discover.