You Watched the Old Man Circle the Car

You watched the old man circle the car. At first he kept his distance, but after a while he started moving closer and closer until he was near enough to reach out and touch you. You leaned over and wound up the passenger window, shuddering as the man slapped at the glass, leaving behind a sweaty handprint. Now you were starting to panic. Who was this man? Where had he come from? You were sure there was no one around as you'd driven into the car park, and the stifling heat before the storm hit would surely have deterred all but the most intrepid dog walkers. This trip to the woods had seemed like a good idea at the time. You were stressed, angry and upset and just wanted somewhere to chill out for a while, smoke a cigarette or two while you thought about what to do next. The accident had not been your fault, you were sure of that, but you were bound to get the blame - you always did.

A slap on the rear windscreen made you gasp. You watched as the old man slid along the wing of the car towards your door. What were you to do? You fumbled for the keys in the ignition and turned them. Nothing. You tried again - still nothing. Shit. In horror, you scrabbled away as the old man's face loomed large at your window. His skin was sallow and sweaty and he seemed to be trying to say something. Quickly you slammed the lock down as you heard him clutch at the door handle. You heard a splat as he slipped in the mud and fell to the floor. Maybe this would be your chance to get away. You tried the keys again and finally the car spluttered to a start. You pushed the gear stick towards first, put your foot on the pedal and tried to move. There was a whine as the wheels slipped on the wet ground as they struggled to get a grip. In a panic, you pushed it into reverse and pumped the accelerator, hoping desperately that you could get away before the old man was back on his feet. With a creak and a bump the car moved backwards. Then there was another bump ....

Oh fuck. What had you just done? You peered out of the window, expecting to see the old man on the floor but there was no one there. Tentatively, you opened the car door an inch or two and peered out. Still nothing. You opened it all the way and looked towards the back of the car. There, lying on the floor, was the old man, blood pouring from a gash on his head. The wheel of the car was only an inch or two from his legs. All you could think was that he had crawled round to the back and you'd run him over. So that made two accidents in one day ... not good. Seriously not good. You wondered what you should do - stay or run? You'd already run once - if you tried to help the old man you'd only get caught for the other accident too. But he was hurt .... and it was your fault this time. You couldn't leave.

You got out of the car and walked over to the man. He was breathing harshly, gasping every now and then. You leant down to see what the damage was. He seemed to be unconscious. This was bad, really bad. You tried to loosen his shirt to help him breathe more easily. Suddenly a hand grabbed you round the neck and dragged you to the side. Wha.....? What was going on? Who was this? You turned and stared into the face of a young woman. She was shorter than you but her arms were taut and muscular and you could see she was plenty stronger than you. She threw you across the back of the car and you landed in a puddle. As you struggled to get back up, a fist landed on your nose, stunning you for a second or two. Then the woman returned to the side of the old man. You could see her checking his pulse, listening to his breathing. She shook her head, took out her phone and made a call.You strained to hear what she was saying, but the horrific truth was about to be revealed.

After a minute or two she stood and walked over to you. "You bastard," she said. That's my father over there. He was only trying to ask you if you had some change for the ticket machine."