Eclipse by Samuel Hinds

violent content ahead: reader discretion advised

Jude clenched the steering wheel, his fingers tightening involuntarily as he cruised down an old country road. The world felt empty, not a single soul in sight for miles. The wind rushed through the open window, tousling his unkempt hair, but his mind was elsewhere—fixed on the only thing that truly mattered.

His daughter.

He adjusted his cap, an old, battered thing that once belonged to his father. It had been repurposed into something greater—his daughter’s tiny hands had messily scrawled across the fabric in bright marker: “Best Dad.” The letters were crooked, uneven, and imperfect, much like the man who wore them.

He was almost home. Almost there to see his little princess.

Then—a flash of movement. A stray cat leapt onto the road.

Without hesitation, he jerked the wheel, his body reacting before his mind could. The tires screamed, the car lurched sideways, and then—

Impact.

Darkness.

Then pain.

After a while, Jude’s eyes flickered open, his vision blurred. His body felt heavy, limbs sluggish and numb. A sharp, searing pressure burned in his chest. He tried to speak, but the words came out as broken, guttural sounds.

And then, a voice.

“Wake up, you worthless fucker.”

His breath hitched. He was alone… wasn’t he?

His eyes darted around. The dashboard was cracked, the windshield shattered, and through the broken glass, moonlight illuminated the scene. His hat lay on a splintered log, one that had—he realized with horror—pierced clean through his chest.

"You always were a little loose in the head, weren’t you, boy?"

Jude swallowed hard. The voice… it was coming from the hat.

The absurdity of it might have been amusing if not for the situation. He tried to move his arms, but they refused to respond. Panic set in. His breathing grew ragged, shallow.

“This isn’t my end. It won’t be.”

The hat chuckled, the sound dripping with cruel amusement. “Yes, it is, dumbass. You’re bleeding out as you speak.”

Jude gritted his teeth, trying to move. His daughter—he had to get back to her. She needed him.

“Shut up,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You never believed in me. But she does. She’s waiting for me. I won’t give in to your bullshit.”

The hat let out a wheezing, mocking laugh. “You think she believes in you? What a joke. After you die here, she’ll go back to foster care. In a few years, you’ll be nothing but a faded memory. A blurry face in an old photograph she barely remembers.”

Jude’s hands twitched, then moved. Adrenaline surged through him. He gritted his teeth and reached for the log, digging his fingers into the jagged wood. He had to move it. He had to get free.

He pushed, scraped, clawed at it— but it wouldn’t budge.

“It went straight through you, idiot,” the hat sneered. “There’s no escaping this. Just give up already, like you always have.”

Jude’s breaths came in short gasps, each one weaker than the last. His vision blurred at the edges, tunneling inward.

“Ever since you were just a kid, you’ve been a worthless motherfucker. Shit grades, no friends, no girlfriend. And now, not even a future.”

Jude’s fingers slackened. His chest felt cold.

The hat was right.

He was nothing.

He had always been nothing. A failure. A joke. A man whose greatest accomplishment was almost being enough.

"I swore I would do something—one meaningful act that would eclipse all my failures. Then, maybe, I could grow old, and die knowing I was a decent man."

"And you couldn't even manage that, you pathetic bastard.""Yeah… I couldn’t. You’re right. I guess it’s time to set down my pen."

His hands fell away from the log. His body slumped against the wreckage.

The wind blew through the shattered car window, rustling the cap where it lay. The words scrawled across the fabric stared back at him—“Best Dad.”

A bitter smile touched his lips.

Maybe, for a little while, she had actually believed it.

His eyes drifted closed.

The silent road stretched on without him.