Author's Note

Well, this happened. I was just curious If i could actually write.
Just to let you guys and gals know.... I really don't care if you like or hate this (Maybe, I do).

This is just a experiment to see if I can actually "Write" and as part of a bet with someone that I quote on quote "can't get a story published, if you were drunk."

"This is a test" = Words spoken
(This is a test)= Thoughts
"This is a test"= Thoughts being said

Prologue

"I hate my life".... Well I also do like it too. I mean I'm pretty sure living is what a lot of people wants deep down in their head; I thought to myself as my car is about to collide with a truck going at the speed of light. Something that I'm sure is going to hurt.... a lot.

However I'm getting ahead of my self. I should probably introduce my self and how I got here before I continue with my tale.

My name is Francis, just Francis. never really saw the point of a last name, no one uses it often. I'm in my late 20's and a pretty much nobody, basic education in life and all that.

Anyways my story started when a "friend" decided to just "Invite" himself into my house, hang a bit and decided to "demand" a ride to the station, that's less then a 15 minute walk from my place.

"I'm not driving you to the train station, I got a bad feeling about today." I said responding to the thing that has been bugging me for the last hour, while I was typing out a email to someone. "C'mon man, it's like what a 4 minute ride from your place and you know their's no such thing as bad feelings" He whined, lying on my bed and messing with the sheets even more. I just got them the way I liked it too.

"It's also a 15 minute walk from here and I know a bad feeling, when I get one" I retorted back, trying hard to ignore the petulant man-baby he is behind me. How we became friends is something that I would never know and I think it involved a brain injury and some other things.

"I'm sick here, you can't expect me to walk to the station? I'll probably fall asleep on the way their and die." He then dry-coughed a bit and did a sniffle. (Good then you'd probably stop messing with my stuff, you lazy ass.) I thought.

"Besides, I'm too tired to walk that far" He said. I know for a fact that he's lying, he spent the last 6 hours sleeping on my comfy bed and eating what little food I had left. I can feel the grin from his face behind my back, "Well, since I'm so sick and all. I guess you won't mind if I stay over for the night".

I immediately halted what I was doing, turned and stared at him. I knew he got me here, I was too "nice" to refuse him on that and that the last time he "slept" over..... lets just say it was enough to make sure it never happens again.

So now my choices are to either let him stay or to drive him. "Get your ass in the car, I'm driving" I said.
Pretty sure I can hear him smile and perhaps the bed creaking as he got up.

Needless to say a few minutes later and with him messing around in the car. My bad feeling was soon to be proven to be justified, as a truck was heading straight for me. The last words I said before the lights and the wave of pain hit was

"At least he won't fuck with the sheets anymore" I said out loud. My friend gave me a stare in what I think were our last moments.