Contributor: Hailey Hartford - - “It’s just a car,” I kept telling myself, like a mantra. Over and over and over. “It’s just a car.” But it was staring. At me. The headlights looked so incriminating, and I felt dirty. I wiped my back and looked at my palm. No dirt. Just a feeling. After a day or so of watching the car parked next to my house, I decided to look at more than just the bow. The back right bumper had caved in quite a bit, and looked rather rusty. Why didn’t the whole car rust over? I sat back down next to the front again and resumed the staring competition. It got more and more intense, and I had to look away a few times. It won, and I continued to feel guilty. Where was the guilt coming from? It was starting to get dark, but the car was parked directly beneath the street lamp. It looked angrier with me, even though I couldn’t...

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Author: Hailey Hartford