Hey, got nothing really to say 'cept hello, and I hope you like the story...
Review if you want.....don't really care if you flame until your heart's content; it's not my fault you kept reading.


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Chapter One: Stupid Mechanical Murderer

In my opinion, crying while driving is just as bad as drinking. Your vision is blurred, your nose is clogged, and objects on the road take on a hazy, watery sort of outline. But hey, I bet you'd be crying too if you were fired from your job, your best friend announced she's moving to Norway, and your dad took away your beautiful, precious 2005 Dodge Viper - ALL IN THE SAME DAY.

So there I was, driving my mother's huge GMC Yukon XL that could plow down a forest. That thing is a monster. I feel like a mouse inside of it. Driving an unfamiliar car while your bawling your eyes out isn't a bonus in life either.

Ah, life. Such a delicate thing. At one point can lift you to your greatest potential, then next it can drag you down to suicide. But I don't think the dog that darted across the street intended suicide. Naw, I think it was just a happy-go-lucky canine that was merely chasing a stick, or a ball, or a frisbee.

I blinked some tears out of my eyes, focusing on the figure in front of me and staring at it for a split second. I should've started stopping right then, but my lagging brain took a second to react. Instead, I stared at it one more moment, and then I slammed on the brakes. I knew I was going to hit it.

Instead of my happy-go-lucky friend successful hunting down his frisbee for his master, my Yukon instead hunted down his life in a split second. Squealing brakes, a sickening thud, and an eerie silence following afterwards. I just sat there, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white. My tears came to a halt as my mouth dropped in shock, and it was a minute or so where I came to my senses.

Unbuckling my seat belt with shaking hands, I jumped out of that stupid mechanical murderer and jogged around to the front. A gorgeous, elegant black German shepherd was sprawled on the pavement, his beautiful fur moving slightly in the breeze.

"No, no, no, no, no," I muttered uselessly, prancing frantically around his body. "C'mon doggy, get up - "

"What the hell - Saber!"

I spun around. A guy about my age was running toward me, a leash in his hand. He fell to his knees next to his dog as I bounced up and down nervously. I watched with frightened eyes as he ran a tentative hand across the magnificent creature's side. "Saber...Saber?"

The guy then straightened and glowered at me with watery eyes. "You killed my dog - I saw the whole thing, you could've easily stopped sooner!"

If I was watching myself at a distance, I would've thought my reaction to be hilarious. Tears - yes, more tears - spouted from the corners of my eyes as I let out a stuffy "I'm sorry!" I spluttered pointlessly and clasped my hands together as if begging for forgiveness. (Which...I guess I was.) The guy just stood and glared.

"I paid eight thousand dollars for that dog!"

In my normal state I would've scoffed and asked why on earth would you pay that much for a dog. But, as emotional as I was, this new information only brought me more grief.

"I'm - sorry!" I cried again between breathing spasms. "I was - crying and I - couldn't see - the road - "

The guy took a step back from me; he might've been questioning my sanity. He ran a hand stressfully through his dark blonde hair and then said in a calmer but quivering voice, "All right, look. I'm not letting you go for this, you're going to have to pay me back somehow. You and I both know you could've stopped, and I think you owe me something - financially If you comply, I wont sue."

As he spoke, I numbly noted his English accent. But that was the last thing on my mind. "Yes!" I blurted out. "Yes, I'll do anything, anything - "

"The first thing you can do is move your car from the road - you're blocking traffic. Just move it to the edge of the street here."

I nodded enthusiastically, grimacing at the line of angry drivers I had stopped up on the two-lane road. It was a second later when I fully processed what he had said. "Wait - move it to the edge?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, bending over to his lifeless dog. "You don't actually think you're in driving condition now, do you?" He carefully gathered the limp animal into his arms. "I'm driving you home, fortunately for all the animals out on the street." And he turned away, walking toward the entrance to the park nearby.

I stared at his back with my mouth open for a second, but then a car horn blared me out of my torpor, and I jumped back into the Yukon and steered it to the edge. As I got back out, I received dirty looks and gestures from the passing cars. In a desperate attempt to shield my face, I let my blonde hair down from its pony tail, snapping the hair twisty around my wrist. Moving away from the road, I followed Mr. England to the park's parking lot where he stopped at a blue Toyota truck. I reached him as he placed poor Saber in the bed of the truck, frowning at the lifeless body.

As he hopped to the ground, I stared anxiously, my tears still determinedly pouring down my face. He crossed his arms and glared at me, but it was more of a thoughtful, suspicious kind of glare instead of a spiteful one. He nodded once toward the truck. "Well, get in."

I made my way around to the passenger side and clambered in, sniffling and wiping my eyes. As he climbed in after me, I threw a sideways glance at him; his blue eyes were critical under his furrowed brow and his mouth was set in a grim line. His disheveled hair became even more messy when he ran another fretful hand through it before he started the engine. He didn't say a word to me.

The ride home was a nightmare. The silence that sat with us in the car was so overwhelming that I nearly burst out in loud tears again. Sounds were only made when I gave directions to my house, sniffled loudly, or snapped my twisty against my wrist. I couldn't help but heave a relieved sigh when he pulled into my driveway.

My first instinct was to get out of there as quick as I could, but he grabbed my wrist before I even reached the door handle. "All right, listen. I'm going to pick you up at nine o' clock tomorrow morning. We're going to go downtown and look around there to begin your...repayment. I suggest you bring some money. How much is up to what you think you owe."

I nodded.

"We'll pick up your car later on after that," he added. I nodded again.

We stared at each other for a second, his hand still on my wrist. His eyes still held that suspicious glint as they stared into mine, and I swallowed with guilt. Releasing me, he looked away and muttered, "Get out of here, then."

No problem there, pal. I scrambled out of that car as fast as I could and walked up my driveway, trying hard not to break out in a sprint. As the truck pulled out and thundered away, I turned and watched, realizing I didn't even get the guy's name. Downtown...that was thirty minutes away.

Wonderful. Thirty more minutes in a truck with a guy I didn't even know.

It was at that moment when I vowed never to cry and drive again.

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Yeah, short chapter...but it was merely an introduction.
I'm already 3/4 done with Ch. 2 and it's longer and better...wont post it until I get one billion reviews. One billion, I say!

....I'll settle for one or two as well.