Creative Writing: The Car Ride Home

The car ride home was quiet, just how Allie wanted it to be. She didn't have enough patience to deal with Rumlow's snarky comments, especially when he thought her fate was doomed. However, she saw that Fury was still alive, which changed her future substantially. When the car finally arrived to it's destination, Allie quickly opened her door merged her way into the house.

"You should clean yourself up," Rumlow suggested as he followed her inside.

Allie turned her head around to face him and nodded her head in response. There was no time to argue and she knew she looked like shit, so she made her way up the stairs to her bathroom to wash her face. When she entered her bathroom, she stared at her own reflection. Her bronze hair was knotted and disarrayed. The left side of her face was covered in dried blood and dirt. She sighed as she tied her hair up in a messy bun before she washed her face. She ignored the stinging sensation on her temple as she brushed her hand across the wound with the warm water. When she was
Brock, please - please, please don't do this!" she begged as tears poured from her eyes. "Stop!"

He hit her on the cheek with the back of his hand before he aimed a gun only inches away from her face. She stared at the end of the barrel with wide eyes. 'There truly is a god,' she thought to herself.

"The Asset was supposed to be the one to do it, but when I'm finished with you, you'll be being me to pull the trigger," Rumlow snarled.

"Not if I pull it first." Allie then swiftly grabbed the barrel as she moved her head to the other side and managed to get a hold of the handle as she kicked Rumlow, as hard her body could muster, in the torso. His body flung off of her as his hand involuntarily lost grip of the gun. When he landed at a safe distance, Allie aimed the gun at Rumlow before he could move.

He glared at her as he caught his breath.

"Get out," she said sternly, as she sat herself up on the table, still aiming the gun at him.