Leah got bit. She waited two hundred goddamned miles before she said anything. This is just like her! Waiting until the most inopportune time to start one of her crazy, fifteen minute stories. Finally, I had to just yell at her to get to the point and she blurted out that she got bit. Or something. Her finger was the size of one of those polish sausages. It looked like it was some kind of joke.
I freaked out. Can’t even deny it.
We split up. She told me to take the car and now i’m lost in the middle of god only knows where, and there’s woods all around me and there’s no gas and i can’t get the car to start again, and I don’t want to get out of the car but I keep hearing this scratching noise somewhere by the back bumper. It makes me think of that urban legend about the guy with teh hook.
I think someone’s out there. But the only thing we’ve got left in the car is a couple bottles of hair spray and some lighters. Maybe I can use those as a distrac