The Confession - 7/13

Gutshot, my end drawing nearer,
I struggled to remain alive --
A small voice behind me croaked, "drive",
So faint I almost didn't hear her;
I glanced at the car's rear view mirror,
My terror in full overdrive --
Insanity becoming clearer,
My mind like a frenzied beehive.

I slowly turned on the ignition,
Doing my best to stay brave --
My captor, she reeked of the grave;
A moment of dim recognition...
Had I used her to misbehave?
I drove onward without petition
Straight to a forest enclave.

The jacket (not I) recognized her:
A victim from sometime ago --
I sputtered, "P-please let me go,"
As blood poured from me in a geyser...
(This one wasn't mine. That I know --
But, not being innocent either,
I felt silence quite apropos.)

Her milky eyes, clouded with yellow
Hung bright in the dark, like an owl,
Her face twisted into a scowl,
"You've chosen a dangerous bedfellow,"
She said with a predator's growl.
My insides went soft as marshmallow,
Threatening to release my bowel.

I turned off the Chevrolet's engine
And slowly got out of the car --
She walked behind me (not too far),
Silently, heightening the tension...
(I know you must think I'm bizarre --
As if spinning some dark urban legend --
But I swear it's all true, this memoir.)

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