Damon couldn't think.
All he knew was that he had to get away. He couldn't take it anymore. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that his knuckles were starting to turn white. It was raining and his car was getting harder to control.
He stared forward, trying to ignore the urge to turn around. He was driving so fast he could barely see the city lights as they flew by, disapearing in the rear view mirror. He could feel anger and adrenaline boiling through his veins. He knew exactly what would happen next.
Damon reached over to turn on the radio. Heavy metal flooded out of the cars speakers and overwhelmed his ears. But he didn't care. He found himself thinking about all he had to deal with in his life. Every crack in his bones. Every stitch in his skin. Every image he could have lived without.