- Beep! Beep! Beep!
Gus awakens from his slumber. Turning off his alarm, he gets out of bed.
'There's no day like a Monday,' Gus mutters inwardly.
His room is small — too small. It barely fits a futon, a fan, and a tiny table. Somehow, it feels more like a prison cell than a bedroom.
He exits into a narrow hallway he's known for all of his 18 years. On the left, the staircase leads downstairs. To the right, two doors: one to his parents' room, the other to his own — the one he just stepped out of. Directly across from him is the bathroom.
Gus quickly enters the bathroom and relieves himself. As he does, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
Average.
Wavy black hair. Soulless brown eyes.
That's right — soulless. Gus is someone who feels aimless. Trapped. Restless. Disillusioned with the life he's been given. Bored of routine. Tired of limits. He wants something more — needs something more.
After a warm shower, Gus dresses in a rush, heads downstairs, and offers his mother a quick greeting. He snatches a slice of cinnamon raisin toast, shoves it into his mouth, and steps outside.
The sky is pale. The air is stale.
As he walks to school, taking small bites of his toast, he notices a black SUV tearing down the road — too fast. Way too fast.
It's coming straight toward him.
170 miles per hour. No sign of slowing. No time to move.
He's on the sidewalk, frozen. Strangely calm.
He braces himself for the pain, for the crunch of bone, the tearing of flesh.
The impact comes.
Everything goes black.