The day began just as many of the previous days had begun, with me getting dressed in my suit and tie, while dropping crumbs from a cinnamon-raisin bagel all across the bedroom floor. Where I work is not important to this story, nor is my name really, but you can call me Andrew. All you need to know is that I have just turned twenty-five, and that I’m a devout Christian. I have lived the live of a struggling disciple of Christ, bearing my burdens when the opportunity presented itself; and so on. But I’ll let the rest of the story tell you more about my character, and you can be the judge of my actions. Cast the first stone if you will.

The chilled morning air bit at my cheeks, as I stepped out my front door onto a badly worn “Welcome” mat. I closed the white door and lock it with a small, golden key. I always made sure I could return home without the fear of anyone being inside my house to greet me with a greedy smile (You’d understand that particular fear if you knew the neighborhood I lived in.). The drive to work took less than thirty minutes, because I always took the North-West Turnpike, a road built with the workingman in mind. Three dollars there and three dollars back. It wasn’t too bad a price if you consider the shortened journey and the increased speed limit. Well this particular morning, in my particular state of mind, I was lost in thought. What happened during my final drive on earth is such a blur really. There was the feeling that I was forgetting something, and that I’d left something undone. “But what?” I kept asking myself over and over. Cars were passing me on both sides, and I had the cruise control set to seventy-five miles per hour. All I really remember, and to be perfectly honest without exaggerating the situating further, was a large semi-truck fishtailing in the oncoming traffic lane. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, that semi is headed straight for me, should I do something?” I found this question funny, although with the hindsight I have now I don’t think would’ve really had time to “answer” the question. The semi and my car united and became “one flesh,” along with about twenty or so other cars. I remember a sharp pain, maybe it was the steering wheel meeting my face, but I guess I can’t be sure. I think my family was told, “Andrew was killed instantly.” I’m sure they believed it, because I guess “instantly” refers to the four seconds of realizing I was going to die, the sharp pain, then the darkness that followed.