Prologue
Jason hated his boss. Over a year in a job, and his employer had never noticed his efforts, never noticed his above and beyond attitude. Normally, he wouldn't care. Normally, he would have been happy to avoid contact with his boss, who had professed to rule the office by fear, which in hindsight wasn't the worst scenario. Work was finished, lazy employees were fired, etc. It was even rumored that his boss was feared by some of the unions. There was also a rumor that he had a hand in the union leadership change about a year ago.
However, this wasn't what had Jason fuming with rage, not even close. His so called "friend" had played a "joke" on him, opening several windows on his computer of questionable origin while Jason was on his break. Naturally, the one day the boss actually noticed anything related to Jason was when his computer was in a compromised status. Jason had had a fun time trying to explain the truth of the scenario to his boss, who literally didn't blink throughout the fifteen minute long conversation. Anyway, he was "suspended" from his job, told to leave until further notice, and was now driving home in his beat up pickup, thinking about several creative ways he could kill his friend. He turned up the music.
"Well, at least I have some free time now," he sighed, "Hooray...".
Thinking about his life, he realized that extra free time would just give him more time to do nothing. He had been robbed a month ago, and although the insurance company agreed to pay for everything, until his possessions were replaced, his house was strangely eerie and boring. He could care less about his material possessions, though, because for some reason, the burglar had stolen several photo albums of his family. He remembered how angry he was at the man that took some of his only family memories. Irreplaceable family memories.
That's another thing. His family. He kept getting angrier as he thought about all of the shit that had happened to him. All of them were killed in a bank shooting eight years ago, when he was only sixteen. He had never let it affect him, but it still weighed heavily on his heart. He remembered how lonely he was in the months following their deaths, the feelings of uselessness he felt over not being able to save them. How he had been the one who had told them to go to the bank, and cash in a birthday check for him. How it was really his fault that they were dead.
He didn't have much of a social life either, rarely doing things with friends, and hadn't had a girlfriend in about six months. Ever since he left college a year ago and got a job, he had become extremely busy in his accounting for long hours, and was usually exhausted when he got home, so he had come to see a love life as a near impossibility. He could at least take comfort in the fact that he was making money, and would be able to slack off later in life. At least, until today.
He focused back on the road, in time to see a car in front of him continue to swerve erratically. 'Damn drunks,' he thought, wondering if he would be graced with a front seat in the inevitable collision. Noticing a bumper sticker on the drunk man's car, he leaned forward, mumbling under his breath. "How's my driving?" it said, "Call 1-800-EAT-SHIT." Jason chuckled. He started reading other similar bumper stickers on the car in front of him. He was so focused, in fact, that he didn't see a van that had crossed the grass median to escape some cops a few thousand feet ahead of him.
"Aaand we're back with live reports on the high speed chase currently taking place on Highway 680," the radio said. Jason looked at the radio, and it continued, "and the escapee has apparently attempted to avoid arrest by crossing the median line."
Jason thought for a moment, looked up, and saw the van heading straight for him. Time seemed to slow down. 'Well, shit,' he thought, 'what a great last day on this planet.' He couldn't help but feel sorry for himself, and then get angry. He had gone through so much, it almost seemed fitting, like a final, cruel joke, to be the only innocent casualty of a freak incident.
"Cue sounds of crumpling metal"
Everything went black.