Creator of Dreams & Dealer of Stories.

Mr. Red (Mini Series)

The rain pummeled the windshield, adding to the blinding ripple of blurred light that poured in front of me. I couldn't see the guard rail along the expressway,and the tunnel was drawing near.

At this rate, I’ll miss the opening of the show. There has to be a better route. The streets are swimming from this downpour. I’m in dire need of rescue.

My eyes bounce around the highway, fishing through exit signs, none of which are mine.

“Man...the streets are a mess out here.That’ll teach me to roll my eyes at the weatherman,” I sigh.

The tunnel up ahead whistles louder than the radio, casting a seemingly endless echo throughout my car. The florescent lights casting along the road have all but dissipated and my cars engine is whining.

My hands fidget against the steering wheel as I try to meet the flow of the coming curve.

This tunnel is like a bottomless pit, whirling around and around.There’s no way I can make it out. Just then my eyes start to burn. I should have eased up on the mascara. Even though rubbing my eyes offers minimal relief, I find myself blinking wildly. The pain gets worse. Black specks of makeup cover my palm.

The burning sensation intensifies, and I can feel the mascara, crawling down my cheek. I switch gears and jam my finger while trying to turn down the heat.


My makeup runs as the heat blasts me in the face. The knob for the heater isn’t working.

I continue to rub my eyes then quickly grab my purse, dumping out the contents on the passenger side seat.

“There must be some moist towelettes, come on, come on.” My eyes shift back and forth from the road.

Then my headlights flicker casting shadows miles ahead of me.

“Keep, pressing on girl, we’re almost there.”

My car is more exhausted than me. It keeps humming and the engine is popping like a old toaster. This isn’t looking good. Eric will have my head for this. I need to make it to that play. I have less than an hour. This production has the potential to be the our shining moment. It could change our life. We’ve worked so hard to get this far.

Just then my phone starts to ring. I keep my eyes on the road as my fingers fumble through my stuff on the passenger seat.


The phone hits the floor.

The ringing persists.

It must be one of the assistants, calling to check up on me. There’s nowhere to pull over. For just a second I slow down my speed. The I stretch out my arm and try to grab the phone. My eyes shift downwards.


The sound rips through my ears, as I jerk up.

“Woah!” I touch my chest and take a quick breath.

My car swerves out the way of a truck. Then I drop my phone onto the seat. My speed increases and I fight with my phone trying to turn on the bluetooth function.

Soon enough I get the phone to dial Eric and thankfully he answers the phone.

However, before I get the chance to respond with my dainty hello, a figure appears in the middle of the highway. They’re directly in front of me.

“Get out of the way!” My hand waves, “MOVE.”

“Err Hi Nina, Hello is everything alright? Where are you?”

“Eric a person is in the--”

I struggle to hit the break in time.

The car twists.My feet cling to the break, slamming harshingly. The person doesn’t move, and my car whips straight through the figure. The impact jolts me out of my seat, smashing my head against the window. Glass cuts through my hair, speckles run across my face tearing through my skin. My fingernails dig into the steering wheel, cracking the leather.

Then as the car flips, my head dings the steering wheel, my arms smash against the ceiling and my nose cracks. The airbag deploys crushing into my chest like bricks.

The car was crushed by trees as it rolled, then dropped off the edge of the highway.

I could see the sky.

The moon shined through the haze and the rain continued to pelt the street like nothing happened. As the quiet came, blood rolled down my arm, staining my dress, My ankles were bent. My back was no doubt broken. All I could feel was the cold.

My head hung out of the window as my my body was sprawled out like that of a ragdoll. I was unable to make even the tiniest of functions.

My eyes laid wide open, as blood slid down my forehead. My engine, started to pop again and I could smell smoke. I struggled trying to move, as a single tear rolled down my face. But no amount of effort was enough. My body wouldn’t budge. The smoke started to thicken and I could see flames shooting from the hood of my car.

The rain fell upon me then a warm palm caressed my cheek.


Thanks for Reading! Stay Tuned for Part 2.


Mr. Red Copyright © 2017 By Lovietta Simpkins.

Published Envision & Wonder

All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Envision & Wonder. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the Publisher, Author & Illustrator, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Copyright infringement is a crime and offenders will be punished to the full extent of the law.

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