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I awoke again from this reoccurring nightmare of the past, that I just couldn't shake. I sat up in bed, trying to steady my breath, patting my hair, trying to undo the bed head that set in. Some time later, enough time to make each day liveable, but never forgetting, I was at home, and now bored. Knowing work was soon approaching but entirely to early to do anything about it, I figured I'd give the best friend a call. No answer. Figures.

-"Hey, you've reached Tiffany! Can't come to the phone right now, I'm chasing the short bus because I left my damn helmet on it, again... leave a message!"

Wow Tiff. Wow. New voice message header... can't say It's not you. Typical Tiffany, same age as me, twenty two years old, and still a damn Goof! I wouldn't have it any other way. Her and I, we're a special breed as I like to call it. A voice message it is...

"Hey Tiffany, It's Sam. Umm, just calling to see whatcha up to, If ya can, call me back ok?"

Well, I guess I'll just get ready for work early. I have to be there in an hour, that's not too bad. Really though, it was bad. What can I say? I'm virtually a loser. I sat up and got off my bed and walked to the bathroom. "Whew!" I whistled, catching my reflection in my vanity mirror. I looked like a groupie, on a week long binger, that partied hard with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers! Even I, alone with my thoughts, knew that was harsh assessment, but a true one. My dark brown hair is all askew, last night's mascara is all smudged around my eyes, giving me creepy raccoon eyes. Maybe, if I just close my eyes... and hope really hard, when I open them again, this will all be gone and I'll look fabulous? I'll give it a try...

Nothing. Still crap. Well, it was a long shot, afterall. So I washed my face, brushed my hair, my teeth, and bounced back into my room to put some music on.

I press the next button on my stereo until I get to the number 4. The White Lies, because I love the song "To lose my life." I make all my CD's myself, insuring everything I love is at a touch of a button, and I am never unsatisfied.

I Went to my closet, picked out an outfit and began the dance that is getting dressed. The walls matched the color of my bedroom, a gorgeous turquoise. I first saw the color when I was 10, in the Gulf of Mexico with my grandparent's. It was the color of the water there and it took my breath away. And so hence, the room color. Its accented in a shimmering gold, my idea of sand, around the borders of my ceiling, floors, doorways, window trims. The song changes to the band The Moxy another favorite of mine, the song "Step Down" wafted into the closet. I walked out of my closet, into my room and grabbed my keys off my dresser and walked down the stairs. I Went to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of ice cold water, a banana and walked out the door.

Outside was beautiful. The sun was a shining, the air smelled of flowers, sunshine, and someone near by cooking on their grill. I paused for a moment to appreciate the scents, with eyes closed and face turned up to the sky I inhaled to my lungs capacity. "Ahh!" I exhaled. My neighborhood, was a quiet but busy little town. Located on a notable Bayside, and even with a population of say 18,000 you still had a great deal of space, considering all the homes here used to be tightly knit beach cottages for the pinky's up wealthy in the early 19th and 20th centuries.

I continued down the drive and opened my car and got in. I drive a Saab and mainly what I love about this car is the heating/cooling leather seats, because Tiffany says, I'm like a Katy Perry song, I'm hot and I'm cold. It's practically forgettable in its outside appearance, but it's the car for me. I Started my baby up and got the shit scared out of me. I had forgotten my radio had been on full blast before I turned off the car and "Barracuda" by Heart threatened to deafen me. I laughed it off and turned it down a bit, it was a kick ass song after all. And so I began the drive to work.

Right now, it's just a job, not a career by any means, but hey it pays... mostly. Another boring day at Grubway a.k.a. Subway. Everyday, rain or shine, snow or the apocalypse, I work here from 2pm until 10pm. Everyday. And as luck would have it, I have the cheapest boss ever, and by cheap, I mean CHEAP. I sometimes get my scheduled break, and I swear every time It's time for me to take it, he calls everyone he knows, the place gets swamped and you guessed it! I get no break. He even counts the squirts of condiments we use, how insane is that? It's not like I'm emptying the entire bottle on a single sandwich. Eye roll.

"No, No, No! You do it wrong. Too many!" In his Indian accent he says. Don't get me wrong, love the accent, it's just too bad it comes from him. Eww. He's a balding thing of a man, at the same height as me, but he's got some extra weight on his meat suit, and sometimes he gets too close, ya know what I mean? I shuddered inwardly.

With work now out of the way, ten years later, I exaggerated as I made my way back to my car. I start my darling and she purrs to life. Every night at this time, I become so grateful to inhale the scent of new car smell, rather than Grubway and all it's contents.

Refreshed now, to be putting distance between Grubway and myself, I pull out of the lot onto Crescent Ave, and a few feet later I make a right hand turn. Boogieing down Main Street to the haunting tunes of H.I.M. I stop at the seventh red light. I swear this street runs on forever. "-Crawl down dead lover's lane, the maze of memory's stain, and suck the blood right out of my heart..." I sing aloud. Tapping the steering wheel to the beat, then the light changes green. My foot hovering above the gas, gives in and off I go. Out of the corner of my left eye I catch a glimpse of light. Two lights, to be precise. Headlights that are now coming right at me, aggressively passing through their red light. I turn my head towards them, a scream escapes my lips, right as the approaching car hits me.

Then blackness.

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