Author's Note: This is based on the Screenplay "Memoirs" by Will Fetters. It will be very similar. So I would like to say as a disclaimer that there will be huge similarities, meaning characters' lines will be the same. I didn't want to change the script because I really loved it. I wanted it to be a book. Since there wasn't one, I decided to write one myself :) I felt really compelled to write this story in book form. I tried writing the prologue of the script and tried to expand on the words written there. This was my first attempt and I'm rather pleased. This was initially written just for myself. However, with time, I wanted to share it and get opinions. This story really stuck with me and I hope you will come to love it as much as I have :) Thank you for taking the time to read :) This is just the prologue and if it gets a good reaction and people would like more, I would be happy to post more.

PROGLOGUE

Brooklyn, New York, 1991

It was very late. The night air was cold and brisk. A woman in her late thirties, wearing a hospital ID badge around her neck, waited alone at one end of the subway station platform. Behind her, the Lower Manhattan skyline was glowing with radiance, the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center standing with magnificence, overlooking New York.

Two teenage boys with hand drawn gang tattoos waited at the other end of the platform. They spoke rather loud, a volume louder than necessary. The slurred Spanish language that rolled off the boys' tongues was intimidating but seemingly harmless. Sharing a cigarette between them and whispering to themselves, they noticed the woman waiting alone and began towards her.

Noticing the boys' abrupt movements, she stares straight ahead. As the boys approach, she became tense and prepared for the worst. They walked past her and made a hard left turn and disappeared down a stairwell without glancing back at her. The stillness and the quiet returned. She relaxed and sighed in relief, silently thanking the Lord. She laughed a little to herself for being so paranoid.

She heard the clanking wheels of the subway train approaching. Her eyes were illuminated by the light of the train, rounding the final bend into the station. Dismissing her paranoia earlier, she now focused on the train. It was getting closer, louder.

She gathered her bearings and focused on the upcoming train. With her attention on the train, she did not see or hear the boys returning from the stairwell behind her. They boxed her in and the one who could hardly grow a mustache was showing her his concealed gun.

The woman realizes what this was, however, she remained calm. "Okay, just…" The train roared into the station. The woman quickly removed her jewelry and anything she thought would be worth some value to her robbers. She hesitantly removed her engagement ring and handed it to them. "Please… it's not worth much… to you."

The boys considered the thin, gold band. One of them was about to take it from her outstretched palm, but he dropped it, sending the ring clanging to the ground, rolling to a stop a few feet away. The other boy attempted to pick it up but froze when he heard men's voices echoing up the stairwell. Now they were boxed in. They panicked.

The train doors slid open. Seeing the opportunity to escape, they ran to the last empty rail car, leaving the woman alone on the platform. The woman remained standing there, blankly staring at them, secretly studying their faces. Her husband was a cop. Not just a New York cop. A sergeant. She would memorize what they looked like, report to her husband, and would eventually retrieve the items that were stolen from her. The train doors began to close when a tattooed hand reached out and stopped them. The doors kicked back and reopened. The boy lowered his arm and grabbed his hand gun. He extended his arm out of that last subway car. Simultaneously, a cloud of smoke and a mist of red, then the woman's now lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

Moments later, the people from the stairwell rushed to the platform, hearing the gunshot. They found the woman's body lying in a pool of blood. They called the police and hours later, the woman's husband hurried in to examine the body. His sergeant badge was showcased on a chain around his neck. He knelt before the white sheet covering the body, and then slowly lifted the sheet. A gasp of breath escaped from his mouth and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A flood of emotions flashed across his face. Anger, sadness, depression… The other police men sealed off the entrance to the station and shone their flashlights around the crime scene, trying to find a clue as to what had happened hours earlier. The light of the flashlight bounced off of a gold band several feet from where the body was found. He saw the ring and picked it up with trembling hands. He wrapped his fingers around the ring, softly clenching it, composing himself, and remembering his wife and the memories they had shared.