It Came Upon A Midnight Clear

1.

Snow.

Goddamned snow.

I hate snow... and right now... I hate my car. They don't mix... they really don't mix... and the tree branch in the road... that I avoided so that I didn't mess up my car... I hate that right now... I really... really... really hate that tree branch... because, not only has it managed to mess up my car... but it has managed to mess up any hope for a happy Christmas... or... a mildly happy Christmas... and... for that matter, a warm Christmas... and here I am, it's Christmas eve... and I'm sitting on the side of a stupid tiny little road that I decided to take to keep away from the busy holiday traffic.

It's not like I was invited home for Christmas anyway. I could call her. I could call her and tell her that I need someone to pick me up.

That would be wonderful. My mother who couldn't care less about whether or not I existed, let alone be home for Christmas would love to be called from Boston to be told her daughter skidded out on a road in some Podunk town in New York state... She'd love that... She probably had to work on Christmas anyway. Whatever.

Meredith slammed her head down on the steering wheel in frustration. "I am such a moron." She mumbled, hearing her horn sound as she just let it rest on the steering wheel, unable to bring herself to lifting her head.

I need a drink.

She had resigned herself to sitting in the snow bank that she had slid into, unable to move her car back or forward, her driver's side door slammed against the hard snow, her tired buried in the ditch that she had slid into, her windshield wipers still whacking wildly as the snow continued to fall on her car.

Maybe if it snows enough, I'll be buried and die of carbon monoxide poisoning...

She suddenly jumped, hearing a light rapping at the steamed window on her passenger side.

Or... I'll be murdered by some insane ax murderer out for a winter stroll.

🎄🎄🎄

Meredith pushed the button on her window, opening it just a crack. "Hello?" She said softly.

"Hey." A soft masculine voice spoke through the crack. She could see a pair of blue eyes looking in at her. "Do you need some help?" The man asked.

"I don't know." Meredith muttered.

"You're stuck." The man said softly.

"Yes." She replied.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Do you need a lift somewhere?"

What the hell... ask...

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked.

The man chuckled lightly. "Honestly, miss... I don't have any time to kill you." He chuckled. "I have a car full of kids on their way to grandma's for Christmas...they get pretty rowdy if we don't keep moving... do you need a ride somewhere?" He asked.

"Um..." Meredith whispered, looking at the dwindling gas tank needle.

"I promise, I won't kill you." He laughed.

"What's your name first?"

"Michael Jones." He replied.

"I'm supposed to believe that?" She asked, hearing him laugh.

"It's getting cold out here..." He chuckled, trying to convince her to make a decision. "Coming?" He asked. "I can have the sheriff down here tow your car in the morning... get it somewhere safe..."