Prologue

Life sucked.

That was the long and short of it.

His life sucked and it always had, and it always would.

But there were good times, a good amount in fact. Though those memories were overshadowed by the less favorable ones. He always assumed that was because the good memories weren't as long as the bad. Or maybe because at the end of a good day, he still had to go home.

"Good days are pictures in an ugly frame," he had tried to explain to his friends once. "The picture may be the best you've ever took, but the ugly frame still surrounds it, and makes the whole thing seem off."

His friends hadn't understood.

Today had been a good day, but not overly so- not enough that he felt something was bound to happen. It had purely been a good day.

After the drag of school and all that had come with it, he found himself hanging out with friends. It was a Wednesday, but the next day being parent teacher conferences, it might as well been a Friday. He had eagerly climbed into the car with them and hit the road bound for whatever came to them.

Most times it'd be a movie, other times it was a friends house, and rarely it something completely random. They had climbed in the car without a destination in mind, arguing ideas back and forth as the driver drove aimlessly through the long and curvy roads, now and then shouting for them to make a decision.

That small car was so full of teenagers- eight of them all packed together, and that small car was so full of life that most of his good times has taken place inside of it. He himself had been laughing at something said when he heard the curses and felt the car slam on its breaks. The smile had vanished from his face as he was thrown into the back of passenger seat.

Silence had followed, his eyes went forward to see the car in front of them had abruptly stopped as well, and the driver had missed slamming into them by inches. His eyes went to the others in the car as each were silently looking at the others to make sure all were fine. The driver appeared the most freaked out of them all, so he moved from his spot on a friend's lap to awkwardly crouch in the middle between the passenger seats in order to speak to the driver. He tapped the driver once on the shoulder, and gave them a reassuring smile when their eyes met his. He opened his mouth to speak when he felt the impact as a van slammed into the car.

Life sucked.

That was the long and short of it.

His life sucked and it always had, and it always would.

But there were good times, a good amount in fact. Though those memories were overshadowed by the less favorable ones. He always assumed that was because the good memories weren't as long as the bad. Or maybe because at the end of a good day, he still had to go home.

"Good days are pictures in an ugly frame," as he had tried to explain to his friends once. "The picture may be the best you've ever took, but the ugly frame still surrounds it, and makes the whole thing seem off."

But even so, in that moment, never had he more desperately clung to his life.