( Author's Note for the Prologue: I am having trouble the tense of this prologue, so I change it randomly. Plus this prologue isn't long enough. The first draft I wrote was really long, but I felt the info was useless at this point it the story and I didn't want to give too much away, and it was boring to read, if you can help me with anything I would be very grateful.)


My heart beats inside my head and I feel as if blood is running out of my nose. My feet are useless limbs beneath me, and my whole body is exhausted. My breath is short and sharp. I wrap my arm around my stomach and collapse into our stiff, spaghetti-stained couch. I groan and arch my back, uncomfortably.

"Don't throw-up" Daylin rolls his eyes at me as he wipes up the spilt Vodka on the counter, his nose winkled and turned-up. The pungent smell thickly floats though our flat and since he has an exceedingly weak stomach it will probably him throwing-up tonight not me. He rubs his templates and leans on the table, oh what the scent of Russian Vodka can do to a chap who has never had a trace of alcohol in his system. I, on the other hand, typically never get actually drunk, don't get me wrong I drink like a frenetic ,but it takes countless bottles of gin for me to be fully pissed, besides I have put worst shit in my body. Daylin folds his arms over his chest and his French tone turns sarcastic. " We should invite your brother over more often for these little drinking competitions." He'll never admit it but he loves it when Derek and his wife, Ellie, comes over. She is probably the only person in this world, besides himself, that actually likes forensic science shows. The phone rings on the end table next to the couch and it almost literally scares the shit out of me. I roll over and cover my hears with my pillow.

"Fuck" I moan "Daylin, get the god damn phone before my headache get so bad it forces me to kill someone" Daylin looks over at the me annoyed but picks up the receiver. I look up from my pillow and see that what little colour Daylin's face usually holds has left it. He puts the receiver down with a shaking hand and looks at me sympathetically. He stutters a bit, and sighs. " Derek's been in accident."

The car skid to a abrupt halt in front of the policeman indicating for me to stop and I stepped unsteadily out of the car. My heart stops and the world disappears, it is just me in a sea of blackness. I can't see the glass scattered across the asphalt, the intense red ambulance lights shinning though the night signaling heaven for another arrival, or my sister-in-law's lifeless body being pulled from the wreckage. Nor can I hear the deafening sirens or Daylin crying helplessly beside me. For the world is as it seemed to me, gone, but somewhere in the back of my mind I can feel the rain beating down on me, just as I know it always would from this day forth in my heart.

I realized that from this day on, unlike most people, I would know the exact moment where my life went wrong, where my world fell apart, why my life was meaningless, for that dark and drizzly day on that desolated freeway I watched the white sheet being pulled over my brother's head.

It was biggest regret I ever made, letting him drive home that night. And hell, I was the master of mistakes. Dirty girls, crazy stunts, anything to save or promote my own arse, my past was full of them and it seemed at the time that my future should hold the same. Yet as it would turn out, some of the best, and the worst, decisions I didn't even make. The pages of my life were to be written by the biggest regret. Literally. And as for fate, that was totally eliminated.