Crash Prologue

Randy's POV

'So, we urge citizens to speak up. They are the only ones that can prevent the destruction of the three acres of forest that would be needed to build the proposed highway. Wildlife should not have to make the best of what's around, they should continue living in "the best of what's around". It is, after all, rightfully their land, not ours' I read aloud to Lauren.

We're sitting in her apartment, and we've just finished writing our latest article for The Detroit Free Press.

God, it's hard to believe that we've known each other for almost 10 years now. It'll be ten years in two weeks.

Just thinking about those days always puts a smile on my face. Back then we were just a couple of teenagers who wrote together on the school paper. We started out as friends, then we began dating.

Now I've decided that on our ten year anniversary of meeting, I'm going to ask her to marry me. I have the whole evening planned out. We'll be whisked away to a fancy restaurant where you have to make reservations two months in advance in a black limousine. Then after a nice dinner with some fine wine, I'll propose. But, it'll be a real surprise, since I'll have the ring hidden on a nearby desert cart. I'm just glad that the restaurant manager was so agreeable to my plans. I'll just say that the dinner, the limo, everything, is all for our 10 year anniversary. Hopefully she'll buy it.

Ah, then of course there's the ring. And it's a real beauty too. It's a little on the simple side, but hey, I'm not made out of money. The ring itself is just gold, but there is a diamond on it the size of a large marble. I really hope that Lauren likes it. If not, then we can just take that one back and she can choose one that she likes.

'Randy, did you hear me?' asks Lauren, snapping me out of my thoughts, and back to reality.

'I'm sorry; I got kind of lost in my thoughts' I apologize.

'I said it doesn't seem possible that we've known each other for almost ten years now, does it?' repeats Lauren.

'No, it doesn't. I was thinking, maybe we could go out for dinner Thursday after next. That's the ten year anniversary, to the exact date' I suggest.

'That sounds great' Lauren says.

'Yeah, I was thinking about going all out. You know, have a limousine take us there, that kind of thing' I say.

'You already have reservations made?' questions Lauren.

'Yeah, it's that place that Italian place up town. What's it called? Uh…Cellars! Yeah, it's called Cellars' I answer.

'Well, it sounds delightful' Lauren responds.

'I certainly hope that it will be' I say.

'I have to go now' I say, glancing at my watch. 'I promised mom and dad that I'd be there at 1:00 so we can get to the concert in time to see the opening act' I say.

'Alright. Have fun. I hope they play "If It Makes You Happy" and Soak Up the Sun". I know those are your favorite songs. I just have one question, how did you talk your parents into going to see Sheryl Crow in concert?' asks Lauren.

'Well, mom and dad like The Black Crowes, and their opening the show' I reply.

'Aah' Lauren says in response.

'Until next time' I say, rather than goodbye. I formed this habit four or five years ago when I first met one of my friends. He would always say "this isn't goodbye, it's just until next time". The guy had a good point, and he got me hooked on saying that. Ironically, my last words to the guy were "goodbye". He died ten months after we met.

'Yeah, g-, I mean until next time' Lauren says. She's trying to convert to "until next time" as well, but she just started.

I walk down the stairs in her apartment building, and then outside. Then I get into my car, an early model Dodge Stratus. Dad absolutely hates the thing because it isn't a classic, or a Chevy, or a Ford, or anything else that he likes. Mom thinks it's cute. Cute isn't exactly why I bought it, but hey, that's mom for you.

Once inside, I start the car, and "No More" comes blaring out of the speakers. I then remember that I had the radio blaring, listening to "Face the Promise", Bob Seger's new album.

Pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment building, I notice what a beautiful September day it is.

Everything seems to be going perfect for me recently. I'm going to see Sheryl Crow, Lauren and I will (hopefully) get engaged, and Lauren and I just got a steady job writing articles for The Detroit Free Press.

Life can't possibly get any better than this.

As I hit the freeway that will take me back to Royal Oak, "Between" begins playing. Next to "No More", this is my favorite song.

Third Person POV

Seemingly out of nowhere, a semi appears from around a bend.

The semi never turns, and despite the efforts of the driver of the silver Stratus, the semi crashes into the Stratus.

A/N: I hope everyone likes this. Let me know what you think.

The very being of this story is interesting. This is merely a reworked version of the original prologue to another one of my stories, The Ruins of Our Lives. I was looking for a new story concept, and just happened across that prologue, and decided to change a few things. I only hope this story can be as succesful as The Ruins of Our Lives is/was.

In case anyone hasn't noticed, there has actually been two rather subtle references to Dave Matthews Band in this story so far. First off, the name of the story, "Crash", is the name of their second album. The second reference is in this line:

Wildlife should not have to "make" the best of what's around, they should continue living in "the best of what's around".

I twice mention "The Best of What's Around", which is a Dave Matthews Band song.

By the way, I hope that that line isn't too cheesy. I just happened to be listening to that song at the time. That, and I needed a clever, witty ending to the article.

Anyways, please R&R if you want more of this story. (Or I could leave everyone hanging, wondering if Randy lives or dies. Your choice).

Let me know if you have any good ideas for this story. It's still kind of in the planning stages. Right now, all I know about this story really is what I just wrote and how it'll end.

Thanks for reading, I appreciate it. I'm glad that you all are willing to read my newer stories, and not just my four originals.

-Yours truly, Randy Taylor