That Summer was unusually uncomfortable in Denver, it had been up to 102 plus degrees and was so stifling hot with the sheer humidity that you could mop up after yourself. Somedays were so much worse than others. I had family from the South, as well as been down there several times and it was feeling a lot like a muggy Arkansas in August; next to the swamp marsh.

Being in my "almost twenties" (I was nearly eighteen when this happened). I was always ready to go somewhere and up for anything fun to do. I had a lot of past already to put behind me but at this moment in life; I was happy to spread my wings and fly.

Rules, what rules?

I wasn't exactly the world's best teenager, but not the worst either. Let's just leave it there - I had a knack for finding trouble in my teens. Or it found me. Either way.

But, my Irish ancestry showed in so many ways I had yet to even realize I possessed. Such courage, and sassiness. I would have to learn to contain that Titan for the rest of my life as well.

I was innately strong, persevering, and fought hard for my means but I was naive. I was unapologetic and unprepared to a point that the gods must've felt pity for me and kept me safe.

I had just gotten a newer car that Summer that I could put some miles on, and wear off the tire tread. Set off to nowhere in particular. Anywhere but here, more like is how I felt.

It was a silver Lumina Euro edition so a bit faster, but not that much. I had tinted windows, and a clean interior, also it was mine o' mine. She had a blue interior with a green old-school analog dash, and I begged to change out the radio. I "needed" loud tunes in my ride, it made drives a lot better that way. I drove quite a bit around to courses and jobs so I could make my bills, rent, and have some kind of fun, as well as a bit of, etc.

I had been up to the mountains a couple of times, all over Denver even downtown, to Boulder, Kittridge (well that's what we called it back then), down to some parties in the Springs', Littleton when I got the stereo installed; even on some roads without pavement to go fishing. Mostly suburban areas for cleaning, as well as house sitting jobs.

So I was most definitely itching to drive; anywhere but home.

I decided randomly to head out toward Kansas one day and check it out.

Why? Well, no reason in particular to be honest other than my mom and I drove through a few times when we went to go visit family over the years.

It was always so beautiful driving through. The people were so nice and it felt like the old-school farming Americana with picket fences and pies cooling in window sills, we grew up knowing. You know the Midwest, the heart of America - kids playing in their front yards, riding bikes, wearing overhauls with dirty knees, and all of those muddy feet, catching frogs.

So I figured, why not? I asked my boyfriend at the time if he wanted to go with me for some company and as my co-pilot. Of course, he did.

Leigh and I were always together like Bonnie and Clyde back then, he always had a way of keeping me out of too much trouble. I had gotten my own apartment early at sixteen but was nowhere near adulthood yet.

He knew that.

And I always appreciated it too. He always had my back. And I could count on him. Not to mention he had the most beautiful vibrant green eyes, as well as a rock-hard great body, so it was easy to spend time together and great eye candy too.

So, that was the plan to hit the open road to find some cooler air, sow our newfound freedoms' oats and let off some steam.

No set destination, no time to be back home, and no instructions were left to anyone who cared for us. We didn't even mention we were leaving or for how long, to anyone.

Really, really dumb.

Freedom bound, that was our only concern.

We packed up some munchies; water and all the good stuff. You know, the orange triangles of crispy cheesy salty heaven, the nuclear green mountain fuzzy water, oh and can't forget the sour gummy people.

We planned on heading out at about four in the afternoon that day and he mentioned that he had some joints to take with us as well. "Sweet, I thought", this was the making of an epic gateway to our adulthood. Or so I assumed.

Coming from the girl who didn't even have an emergency blanket or a safety kit packed in the car, in Colorado, during Winter.

Setting out for the open road was such an awesome feeling, I still had that nervous tinge in my belly like when you were young and just started out driving on the highway, scared to merge over in traffic thinking changing lanes would be the cause of your death.

Everything was so big, I was so small it felt like literally entering a brave new world for me. As we gained some tread on the road I felt more confident and was looking around soaking in life.

All the different people traveling, the cows in the pastures, birds flitting between trees, semi-trucks whizzing by and the new smells, new communities. It was just beautiful, there were enormous sunflowers in the fields growing as far as you could see. I felt like pulling over and just running through them. For the sake of my own dignity, I didn't pull over and embarrass myself.

Giant yellow beacons of goldenrod petals on spears of green leaves that are standing tall for the gods to see. Soaking up all of the sunlight they could gather.

It smelled of flowers and sweet grass wafting through the trail that we were blazing down that highway. The cool air coming from the 75 MPH "freedom run" was a sweet kiss of comfort for us that felt just like free air conditioning.

The sun started to set as the orange and red hues were peeking from just above the Rocky Mountains fading over and onto the plains grasses, bouncing across the fields, and turning everything into a vibrant and majestic oncoming sunset.

It was breathtaking seeing everything that the Earth had to offer as well as empowering being on my own, true independence.

We started smoking and before I knew it we were stoned and driving.

Not the best decision I ever made but being a teenager negates certain rules for some reason. I can admit that but that's why we live through to our twenties, to survive being stupid. I remember laughing so hard that I had to go to the bathroom.

We found a rest area and pulled off. It was still pretty bright out and I figured now was the as best time as any.

I hadn't ever been in a rest area or truck stop without my parents before and had grown up knowing that they were generally not the place for a single female to hang out or even be around at all. I was sensing trepidation in myself but I trusted Leigh to keep me safe, and 'oh' man did I have to pee.'

This restroom was gross, it hadn't been cleaned properly in quite some time now. It smelled awful covered up with some industrial perfume that is emanating from dispensers.

The woman who was already there applying her lipstick in the tiny mirror didn't seem to enjoy that she had a run in her pantyhose saying "these damn stalkings ain't cheap these days".

Most of my assumptions were fulfilled by the quick "5-minute stop", but seemed safe enough to get in and get out quickly. 'Just don't touch much and make sure to wash hands thoroughly', I thought to myself.

We kept heading Eastbound into midwestern tranquility as the sun faded behind us into the evening blues in our rearview mirror. Leigh and I were starting to get hungry, so we eventually found a small diner and took notice that there was not much to do in the middle of nowhere.

It was one of those quaint little towns that had one white church, and a post office, everyone knew each other's business, and the town had a police station, grocery store, and two restaurants; one that was closing in about forty minutes.

We made a quick meal, said our pleasantries, and left with our apple pie slices to go.

Seemed a reasonable snack after a long drive back home.

Though very beautiful, it was so boring and we agreed to get super stoned and drive straight back home in one shot.

We switched, and as he drove back my stomach started toiling with the creation of internal belly monsters I devoured. My stomach was not very happy with the country gravy I randomly chose to eat as a viable option for road trip food.

I couldn't take it anymore, I was either going to ruin my pants (which would be my spontaneous combustible death for sure) in front of him or have to admit to him I needed a bathroom. Sooner rather than later.

Neither is an option when you're young and he is "so cute". So I looked over and said, "I think I am going to explode dinner can we stop, please".

He just laughed, turned beet red, and said "me too".

Thank goodness because I was so nervous even having to ask because I was utterly embarrassed anyway talking about "poop" with any guy on the planet. Let alone, my boyfriend.

Although me finding out he was doing the same thing was a huge relief off of my chest, and that we were pulling off soon made me ecstatic.

We got to another rest area as we headed back west in what seemed to take about two hours but was realistically about fifteen minutes and with perfect timing.

I didn't even think about being nervous at this one. I didn't even notice it was almost complete darkness out now with a faint hint of blue in the sky. I had no concerns for my safety. I just had to use the bathroom, and now. I ran out of the car and directly into the facilities. I saw no one or nothing until I saw the woman's sign on the bathroom door.

As I finished up I realized I had no plan of where to meet Leigh or even remembered where he had parked.

I was in such a hurry, I neglected the common basics of a woman's survival, and safety. I remember telling myself I was being a spook, but I had this feeling in my gut that I should just be on my toes when I was alone and paying attention to my surroundings.

Then I thought to myself "I wonder if he is already done and waiting for me out there, how awkward. That would be embarrassing. I should hurry up."

I didn't see Leigh anywhere in the lobby area, I started to walk toward the exit door and this older man with rough grey hair, piercing beady dark eyes wearing an older Vietnam veteran squad hat asked me if I needed any help.

I politely said "no, thank you, my boyfriend is in.." and with precision perfect surgeon-like timing Leigh came out of the restroom.

This man was medium-sized in stature and sort of resembled that Green River Killer guy. He had the same type of eyes as he did with the thin-framed face and evil look to his core.

Instead of looking at me and smiling like Leigh normally did, he was staring at this guy talking to me with the meanest damn look in his eyes.

Leigh asked the guy in an abrupt tone "can I help you man" and the Vet' responded with "oh, I thought she was alone, I mean no disrespect dude was just making sure she was safe".

I remember thinking "dude", he must be from California or something maybe an old surfer Veteran from the war in the Mideast, Gulf War, or one of those.

I didn't pay attention to that huge red flag. Why would he be concerned with my safety? And if so why be creepy?

See Leigh wasn't a jealous type at all, we had been in many situations socially where I had been hit on and in front of him; he never reacted to them as he just did to this stranger.

Not even with our high school crowd, party-scene did he ever behave that way.

As we went to walk out of the lobby area leaving back for the car the creepy guy asked us if we smoked weed and wanted to provide a "peace offering" for us.

Still to this day, I do not know why we even responded, or said "yes", but we did.

Seemed reasonable enough at the time. What harm can be done, right?

We felt like we judged him too harshly and his manners were so polite as well.

For me, I trusted the hat. My stepfather was a Veteran, I was raised to respect the military. So, I didn't see the harm in getting stoned out with an old war guy.

Leigh knee-jerk resisted at first but succumbed to my ignorant dismissal and hype of "oh he's just an old vet".

I remember him asking us to get in this little overhead camper he had on the back of a truck, like a good ole' Dodge from the late 70s truck, that had a small white and yellow camper thing is what I remember with a door that had a curtain. It looked old, tattered, had dirty windows, was cluttered, and the aluminum trim was prying itself away from its duties to the vehicle.

He said to us, "blaze in my "house"? As he made the quote/unquote "bunny ears" with his fingers, offering a small smile of sincerity.

Again, the trailer thingy' was dirty and it looked cramped, not to mention I saw this scene in a horror movie one time. No, neutral safe zone for me already in a precarious situation. I wasn't so naive to dive into a cramped filthy kill zone. Nope.

I said, "No, thank you. We can blaze in my car, the back seat is open for you".

He resisted and said we could smoke in the cab of his truck but again I said "no, thank you". I remained calm and polite but I was firm that I wasn't going to be doing that.

We went back and forth on where we should smoke and finally ended up settling on my vehicle.

I sold it by reminding them of the dark tinted windows being for our benefit and out of the eyesight of others. Well, I said, "since this is turning out to be more complicated than it should be why don't we just split and wish you well on your travels".

"Wait, wait. Now, hold on, no need acting hasty. May I get my puppy and I'll go with y'all, I just don't want to leave her alone is all?" he said in such a pleasing and respectful way.

All I heard was 'puppy', "absolutely of course" I blurted out. I loved animals and even had cat stickers on the back of my bumper. So he had to of known I loved animals, what girl didn't?

Now it made sense why he was weird. He just didn't want to leave his dog alone in the truck.

As we waited, Leigh and I watched him fetch her from his camper part of the truck. Nothing benevolent, or 'Silence of the Lambs' style had crossed my mind at all at this point.

Next thing I knew we were in my car smoking with a stranger sitting in our backseat, placing us in the most vulnerable situation we could've been in, in the history of teenage stupidity.

As we smoked with this random human, I felt like such a 'hippie dippy', my mom would be so mad at me for doing it and I was being an "adult" so C'est La Vie to reality!

We all talked for a bit and got along well, I was partial to the little black and white dog he had with him. I can't remember her name or even what breed she was nowadays but she was a sweetheart of a dog and loved to cuddle up in my arms.

I remember thinking she was overly nice and wanted so much attention of mine. He started telling us how his wife had died and that he drove the roads to "stay alive as well as see the beauty life had left to offer him".

I remember the Vet' saying he had been driving a long time and referred to the highway as being his "home". How sad, I thought to myself, no family, no holidays to share. Ouch.

I was too stupid to not even notice Leigh was getting very agitated with this guy for some reason, still. I could see his impatient leg-shaking thing, he had this habit, or tick I called it. When he got frustrated or uncomfortable he would shake his leg. The ferocity of the shake dictated his level.

I was caught up in playing with the dog and listening to his story.

What seemed like out of nowhere and completely uncalled for Leigh abruptly said "why do you keep looking at her like that man?"

I was caught up in thinking this guy could be an adopted uncle to notice he was simply grooming me for his own disgusting needs as his dog was simply a distraction to me as well.

To catch me off guard.

Leigh was very firm on this guy getting out of the car and leaving immediately, it was completely out of nowhere and we were mid-conversation.

"You know what, on second thought man, why don't we go ahead and get on the road," Leigh said.

The Vet responded to him calmly "ahh man for real, the joints still going?". He seemed annoyed but pleasant still for the most part.

"Nah man serious, we're done let's go get out and we're going to head back our way"

I didn't even really understand what was going on at the time. I just thought Leigh was being an asshole.

I hadn't put that dog down long enough to see what Leigh had seen or was intuitively picking up. I should've trusted his gut reaction far more.

"You know what".. he repeated back to Leigh just as he had said to him in the same abrupt tone.

"No. On second thought, why don't we finish that joint?! And let's ask the lady what she wants to do?" The Vet was firm and authoritative in this response. Cold, demeaning, and stark.

This guy refused to get out of the car, and Leigh was just fired up at this point by being dismissed by the.

I never had ever seen him this mad. The Vet' simply sat there in my backseat stone-cold his demeanor clearly saying I won't be leaving, with this absurdly displaced smile on his face.

Leigh kept yelling at the creepy guy to get out of our car and "please leave, now man. Get the hell out now man".

This guy refused to leave our car and simply said "No, thank you" to me as politely as I had been to him, but with trite and seemingly malevolent facial expressions toward Leigh's presence.

The creep looked me dead in my eyes as if he meant to say something a whole lot deeper with his dead eyes and just said "No, thank you", and winked at me.

As if he meant to say "I won't be going anywhere without you tootsie".

As he winked which in reality took one second I felt an eternity of fear running down my spine. It was an eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me I'm not safe, get the hell out of here.

My ancestors seemed to purge through my veins with electrically negative vibes. My legs just wanted to run.

I remember Leigh telling me to get out of the car fast while he got this guy out for himself.

He was literally going to pull this guy out one way or another, and seriously, why was the creepy guy refusing to get out of the car anyway?

It went from a semi-cool chill blaze session to a very intense mental chess match to a MMA fight in a matter of ten seconds for us.

I opened the door to the passenger side of my car and Leigh got out of the driver's side at about the same time to walk around and drag this guy out.

My hand slipped off of the handle on the first try, I was so panicked.

As I reached for the handle of the door and pulled again, he either kicked the back of my seat or pushed it so hard with his hands that the seat thrust me forward and I almost hit the dash with my face. I wretched that handle, pushed, and fell forward out of the door, then onto my face in the parking lot. Not really grasping what had just happened I was in sheer panic mode.