Prologue
Bitter, unsalvageable failure. That was what his life was. Nothing more, nothing less.
When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. When life gives you eggs, you make an omelet. But when life slaps you in the face, what are you supposed to do? Do you beat yourself up? That was all he could ever do. He couldn’t respect himself—not after the horrible things that had happened. When his dad accidentally ran him over in his own driveway at the age of six, making it impossible for him to become the star Dallas Cowboys quarterback the man had always dreamt of his son becoming, it was somehow his own fault. What about the terrible prank his best friend pulled that went awry, injuring eight students and two teachers when a locker exploded outside of a classroom due to a chemical malfunction? If it was entirely his best friend’s idea to pull that prank, then why was he expelled for it? There were so many terrible things that happened in his life, so many so far out of his control, yet somehow, he was always there, and therefore, always the easiest to pin the blame on.
His mom used to sit there and watch when his dad would hit him. She always tried to be there, like a shoulder to cry on, but when it got down to it, it sure seemed like she didn’t care. At least, not enough to take a stand. It was obvious from her expressions that she didn’t have enough courage inside of her to stand up to her husband for her only son. He didn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault he was a miserable wreck, destined for nothing more than to become a spot of grease on the iron at a railroad crossing. And that’s exactly what he intended to do.
At one in the morning, he shifted his car into park. Then, he waited. He thought back on his life, trying to remember the good things. He remembered the girl he had just seen less than a half hour ago, when he told her he was going far away. She pretended to care as she hugged him, but deep down, he could see a glimmer of relief envelop her face. He didn’t think about all the times she spat at him, cursed him, asked him to go kill himself. He remembered the day they first met, how beautiful and alive she was. She seemed so carefree and happy to be alive in those days, the days before he ruined her completely. Her change of heart was entirely his fault. He was sure of that. He was doing her a favor by conceding to her demands for his suicide. Either she’d be relieved that he’s gone, or she’d feel bad enough to take back everything she had said, but by then it would be too late.
He remembered the parties he and his friends attended in high school. It had been so long since he could even have fun, but at least he had the memories to look back upon. Still, they weren’t worth living for. His so-called “best friend” didn’t even care enough to return his call when he told him he was going to go kill himself.
At the mere thought of his best friend and his best girl both not caring one bit about his safety and well-being, he took the liberty to close his eyes. The moonlight was shadowed by a dense fog that overflowed the vast fields surrounding him. He was on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. There wasn’t a house for a mile in either direction. No trees, no power lines, no sewage systems. Just open air and a railroad crossing void of caution lights and drop-down gates, only yield signs.
The silence was broken by the intense roar of a train off in the distance. He knew that it would be mere minutes before he would breathe his last. There was nothing more to reflect upon. There were no memories fond enough to stay alive for. All he had was this last moment. He wondered what it felt like to die. How long would he feel pain before it all went away?
He leaned over and situated his head into the passenger seat of his truck. He thought he might pray, begging God to at least sit down and have a talk with him at the pearly gates before he sent him straight to hell. But it was hard to see the use in praying. If God cared enough to not send him to hell, he wouldn’t have let him become this way in the first place.
The train grew louder as it approached his truck. His heart pounded as he tried to imagine the unknown he was about to encounter. There was nothing certain of what was next. Certainty was a part of his life as much as happiness was.
Soon enough, the train was less than a quarter of a mile away. As the sweat on his palms and the soles of his feet began to drown him, he felt a slight push.
