Chapter 1

The Golden Gate Bridge. People come here just to commit suicide. And tonight was no exception.

Adrenaline poured on thick and in heavy supply. I believe that I could even taste the stuff. It was bitter and sweet. Maybe that was just some of the blood from when Bonnie had forced me to bite my tongue.

My car cut the fog, but the headlights continued to fail at burning through the shit. That was too bad. Then a car appeared out of nowhere, just parked with no lights on and apparently no passengers. I jerked the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid the car that I felt was probably left unattended by some crazy asshole. I swerved from the right lane all the way into the far left lane.

I was just in time to see an image swoop down from the unknown. The figure had been dark, obscured even further by this never ending plague of haze. What the hell? My mind asked. Now the fear bulged in my throat. What had it been? I continued forward but at an even more accelerated pace. My car sighed because of the strain.

“I’m sorry girl,” I told her, “we’ll be out of this in a sec…” Another figure dropped out of the sky. This one seemed a bit clearer to me. What was it? A jolt produced a bouncing affect in both my car’s suspension as well as my own body. I’d run over something. Then another something dropped from the sky, and then another. This had to be the Darkness. But why? Was it just messing with me? Darkness knew I was scared out of my wits. Why all the fanfare? Why hadn’t the thing just re-possessed me?

And just then I got an even better glimpse of one of those falling objects. I clearly saw a human man’s body appear, seemingly from nowhere, cross my vision from some vertical point. I dug into the brakes, screeching and sliding across the asphalt. Because I’d not been wearing my seatbelt, I felt my chest bite into the steering wheel. It was not a soft bite, either.

At a full stop, I waited. As I was still on the suspension bridge, I wondered what the hell was going to happen next. I feared that being on the bridge was the worst place to be. I waited still. Several seconds later, the quiet of the car prompted my foot to thrust my car into hyper drive. My mind made me feel the terror’s cold fingers pinching my ear. I panicked and shook my head violently.

Another person flashed from somewhere above, smashing into the pavement at what I suspected was upwards of 75 miles-per-hour. I ignored it. And the next one. And the next one. One diver got so close to making impact with my car and me, his hand slapped the hood. I drove over him and a few others. I’d had no time to slow up or go around the unfortunate victims. These people are already dead, Addy, I reasoned or rationalized—I’m still not certain it wasn’t a combination of both. Before they touch the ground their minds have murdered them. It’s not your fault. Darkness is to blame. Not your fault. A single tear dropped from my cheek.

How rude of me to begin a story without saying anything about myself? I’m sure you would like me to get directly to the end of my story just so that you can find the entire plot ends with a huge bang. Sorry to disappoint. Not that the story doesn’t end with a huge bang, but I thought I’d begin from the beginning. The beginning and the middle are much more exciting than the end, as hard as that may be to comprehend.

Born Adonis Percival Williams on May 23, 1977, my life has been almost worry-free since birth. Almost. And currently the year is 1995, in case you happen to be reading this during some point when cars can fly.

I got bit by a shark when I was five. I don’t seem to remember that incident, but I guess it was too traumatic. I have a friendly reminder, though…my left butt cheek has a mean scar still, just in case you were wondering.

When I was nine I was run over by a car, but I only had minimal injuries. Funny how that works, huh? I suppose it’s similar to how people can fall tremendous heights and survive, or how ordinary people can perform extraordinary tasks when their lives are threatened. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m “special.” I seem to believe the latter a bit more and more each day. But I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?

I’ve lived through occurrences that I can’t quite comprehend or explain. There have been brief instances where I have wondered if anyone in the world could possibly have gone through the same types of things as me. I have wondered if maybe there is some sort of bully up there picking on me and me alone. Well, haven’t you? If you answer that question in the affirmative then maybe I’m not so different after all.

My father is Carl Andrew Williams, CEO of Eaton Aerospace. I’m not exactly certain what he does as CEO, but I know he makes the same amount of money in one hour as some make in one year. Contrary to what you may think of millionaire dads, he’s actually the perfect father, in my opinion anyway.

My mother is Georgia Lisa Williams and she’s the most loving woman I know. She used to work as a studio executive in Hollywood, but I think that’s just something I heard. Now that I know a bit more, I’m almost positive she was much more than that. She’ll always be the perfect mother, but as new developments occur, I can pretty much say that without a doubt she may be the reason I’m so “special.” Well, her and my uncle, that is. And no, I’m not hinting that I’m the love child of their incestuous relationship! Heck, are there still people who do that kinda thing? Yuck!

Coincidentally, or not, depending on what your definitions of chance and destiny are, the events that led up to my being on the bridge happened at a very bland period in my life. It was as if someone knew I needed excitement in my wealthy, self-absorbed existence. I also happened to graduate the same day as my birthday. Funny, isn’t it? I remember it like it was, well…last year.

My high school graduation had been the greatest day of my life to that point. Not because of the sense of accomplishment and pride that many take from the event, or the delicious birthday cake that many who were born the same day they graduate get to munch on shortly thereafter. I wasn’t experiencing the most pivotal day in my seventeen years of existence because of the thought of my first glass of sparkling wine (which would be consumed in private somewhere on my family’s yacht). No, though these reasons were all very important and should definitely warrant a mention in my “Book of Memories.”

The true reason that this was the greatest day of my life was merely just because it would be the beginning of why I believe I’m so special. I’d been waiting for a day like the one I’m about to describe for years, but if you’d told me I would actually experience a day like this, I would have told you to stop sipping the cough syrup. I began the day by writing in my journal. After that, it was on to getting dressed and attending my graduation ceremony.

I remember walking over to my dark brown dresser drawers and opening them to look for the right thing to wear underneath cap and gown. Now, we’ve all heard horror stories of the prankster, or the “enlightened” youth, who decides that by not wearing underclothes, he can singlehandedly bring down corporations that employ sweatshop workers. Of course, the true end result is that we are all just unfortunate enough to see a teenager’s butt or maybe a little more.

Though I had no desire to experience such an occurrence, and though many people had laid claim to the possibility of putting it “all out there,” I really didn’t believe it would actually happen. Thus began a sequence of events I would have never expected to actually happen.

After successfully finding a nice pair of white boxers to go along with the white T-shirt, I waltzed along my marble floor with enough energy to power a small city. I hummed John Lennon’s Imagine while I did a little dance in the mirror. I’m so skinny. White and skinny…what a combination for a California kid, huh?

Mission Prep is not your mother’s traditional prep school. Because of our endowment, we had the latest everything. TV monitors in classrooms with multiple screens could switch simultaneously from Saved by the Bell, to the parking lot, to the girl’s locker room. Well, I think they can go into the girl’s locker room…maybe that’s wishful thinking.

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