Help! Help! There is death in my bed!

For some time, I looked out of the truck window and wondered why they moved so easily in the wind and rain.  They looked so calm most of the time.  It was as if the rain were their tears and the wind was their breath.  I could see them stepping forward and moving together in weird rhythms to music I could not hear.  I looked at my father, next to me at the wheel.  He was focused on the road.  He made a face and then looked down at the gage.  We were running out of gas.  He began to drive dangerously over the back road.  He took the corners hard, trying to get home before we were completely depleted.  I only watched and waited for the inevitable.  We stalled out.  And drops of rain were falling rather large on the windshield.  I almost lost my cookies back there, and now that we were stopped, I started walking back on the road to collect my luggage that flew out of the back of his truck.  Thankfully, we ran out of gas.  Otherwise, what would have happened to my suitcases out here?  I chuckled to myself.  Only my father would think that flooring it would get us home.  Instead, it cut us off.  He started walking the opposite direction and told me he had to go and get gas to get us started again.  But before he got going too far and just as the words fell from his lips, a car pulled over.  A friend of his and he had a gas can with him.  I couldn't believe the luck.  I tossed my bags back in the truck and got back inside.  We had shared some pie at the Crossroads diner.  We had talked a bit about the future.  At that moment, though, I really wasn't sure what I wanted to be.  I just knew I was at the whims of life.  And I was very clearly still seeing visions of things I had since I was a child.  The trees still moved and smiled and gave me greetings.  I still knew home by the trees and the land.  I never paid attention to city limits.  When I moved years later, the lack of pine trees would bring me right back to this place.  There was no leaving the pines behind.