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The whole thing was starting to get to be too much again. Mrs. Taylor probably sensed that and left me be. I began to think that maybe Iwouldn't be able to handle this new life. Maybe the only way out wasdeath. I hate to admit it, but I seriously considered suicide whilelying there that day.A few hours passed, and Mrs. Taylor came by to tell me dinner wasready. I told her I wasn't hungry. I doubt that she bought it, butprobably felt that it wasn't worth pushing.The day eventually gave way into night, and I tried to sleep. I foundsome baby blue pajamas in the dresser, which I was more than happy towear instead of that little nightgown. I tried to sleep, but betweennot being tired from my relative inactivity all day, and the mountingstress, I couldn't.The night passed slowly, and only gave me more time to wallow in mydespair. I had never been that depressed before. Between thedepression, sleeplessness, and hunger (which was now getting reallyannoying), I was completely miserable.I got. The front under tray of the car had been torn off, and as Drew walked around to the passenger side he was met by the sight of a very upset, petite gorgeous woman. She was still sobbing but managed a weak, "Hello." Inside the vehicle it was obvious they weren't going to be continuing their journey as the driver side airbags had deployed on impact, leaving the dash and steering totally destroyed. After assessing the damage Drew said, "Look, I think we'd better drag your car into my driveway to get it off the road and you and your wife can come up to the house." With out much drama they hooked a chain to the car and it was slowly dragged and coaxed inside the gate. Then the marooned travelers were ferried up to the house. Ushering them inside to the lounge area Drew warmed himself by the open fire place that had been burning non stop for three months now, another constant of this farm. He introduced himself, "Drew Bishop is my name," and extended his hand to the man. "Dave Williams and.
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