In the back of the car there is no door handle. It doesn’t matter who lights the scene. In it there are the lights and the back of the car and the grate and the officer who is asking about grades. Is it a sin to cast an image where the officer is not the villain? There isn’t a version of this car in which the person sitting in the back has committed a crime. The law can’t be conveyed visually or otherwise. The back of the car has a hard seat and the person is texting. The officer says, do you get A’s? B’s? And the person responds with the truth. She has her phone, the officer will say later, when he stops the car, when he flees the scene. The officer hasn’t ever been in the foreground. The transport from one life to another, the dappling says. In the way that lighting can communicate, the fading and the specific shimmers that work horizontally. The sun is going down and the one life is ending. The self is ferried into the next, and the person should resist, but they don’t. They look down at their phone, press against the screen, write, please don’t tell. They still want to be saved. There isn’t any blood, nor any pills, no helium. There isn’t anything. The person is untouched and clean, virginal and perfect. The person thinks of the line from the movie. Honestly, doctor. The officer is just the ferryman. The doctor is out of office. The security at the hospital will restrain the other patients, take the person’s bra and phone and keys. The other patients will lunge and punch and swear and open their mouths. It will take all of one hour for the person to realize that the other patients are not the villains, either. The officer will ferry the person to the hospital and the person will never come out. There are no villains anymore, only structures. Someone behaving some way because someone else decided for them. The car and the dark highway are the last scene the person will ever see; the tongue on the floor and the doctors panicking, checking everyone’s mouths. Checking for the bite. It’s impossible to know if the person opens their mouth, if they still have their tongue. There are no images from inside the hospital. There is nothing left of what came before. Payment is required to cross, the officer says, maybe. The person has no choice but to offer their soul.