Prologue (3rd person)

Prologue

Fremont, Nebraska

Her life ended on Wednesday, August eighteenth.

The young girl clenched the steering wheel with whitened knuckles, staring frightfully at the blinding lights only yards ahead and coming closer. She had heard the cliché many times - that a white light signified imminent death and the passing into heaven - but being a skeptic, she refused to believe it without proof. And while heaven’s light should be straight and direct, these lights were not. They travelled in a zigzag pattern, careening from the left lane into hers and back again. The dizzying speed of their course sickened the girl's stomach; yet strangely, time had seemed to slow down in inverse proportion. Only precious seconds remained now; she used them to turn her head and glance at the horrified expressions of her passengers, a man and woman....her entire life in a small red Mustang convertible.

She wished she could tell them what she was thinking. She wished they could read her thoughts so they would know how helpless and confused she felt.

I don't know what to do, she thought tearfully. Don't know...

Someone shouted at her. The lights drew closer, swerving left and right in their aimless zigzag, and then finally straightened their course " on her side of the darkened road. The young girl closed her eyes and braced herself against the seat, her thoughts screaming in lieu of her voice. She took a shaky breath inward for what would be the last time....

Fort Collins, Colorado

Same Day

Piercing screams awoke eighteen-year-old James Preston from a sound sleep. He snapped to attention and opened his eyes, glancing about his dorm room in panic. Nothing looked out of the ordinary -the lights were off, the building quiet - except for the fact that his roommate had not awoken as suddenly as he. James calmed his erratic breathing and glanced over to the bed situated on the wall opposite him, where the other boy lay snoring contentedly in the darkness.

“Rob,” he whispered harshly. “Rob.” When he didn't stir, James grabbed his pillow and tossed it at him. “Rob! Wake up!”

“Hmm....what?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“The screaming.”

“No.” Robert threw an arm over his face, annoyed.

“Well, I did. It sounded close.”

“Probably somebody dreaming.”

“No, it wasn't a dream.” More like a nightmare, James thought.

“So it was somebody's nightmare.” Robert yawned. “Just forget about it and go back to sleep. We've got exams tomorrow.”

“Just wish I knew what it was.”

“It’s voices, man " in your head. We all hear those.”

Knowing what his buddy meant by this, James exhaled in defeat. Yeah. He lay on his back once more and interlocked his fingers behind his head, leaving the pillow on the other side of the dark room where he'd tossed it. Yes, things like this had happened to him before, and they would continue for as long as he lived. Though he'd spent his entire life wishing for the possibility, James could never make it go away.

In his world, this was normal.

Reviews

[Syldor]

This is an amazing story, with such a creative telling. I'm on the edge of my seat, waiting to see where you take this!