This. Is sad. Tragic. Horrid. This, has nothing to do with any of my other fic's. It is written, in loving memory of my best friend Kara, who died in a car accident last night. Kara and I grew up together. I've known her since 3rd grade. Its funny, how tragedy shapes you. It pounds and chips away at you, forming you into something... Something that you cant see yet, but that you feel yourself becoming. Death is nothing new to me. Its nothing suprising. I've been through the grieving process, more times then I can count. Thats what happens when your a foster child. People leave you. No matter how much you love them, no matter how much you pray and hope and wish, in the end, no one stays forever. That... Is why I dance. Why I sing. Why I throw myself into life blindly and with passion, knowing that nothing lasts... No matter how much you want it to. There is a picture on the wall of the dance academy, where I practice. A picture of a pair of feet. Bloody and blistered and black and blue from dancing. There is a qoute under it. "I dance because I must... I love because I cannot stop... I live, because I can and I hurt because I live... The road to greatness... Is paved with tears... And my feet have blisters apon blisters... But the pain, leads me ever on...To finding the perfect... Arabesque." This is for you Kara, I hope wherever you are, that your happy and at peace. I love you. Kara Stephna -May, 18th, 1980-August 21st, 2007. Disclaimer: I dont own this song, it was written by death cab for cutie. I dont own transformers.

The day came far too soon. He had known it would. It had been a great ride. 67 years of friendship, adventure and love. They had done it together. Side by side, just a man and his car. 67 years that should mean nothing to a being as old as him, had ended up meaning everything. His daughter had carried him out to the parking lot, where Bee had waited patiantly for the past month as his beloved Sam had faded away. She understood. He had watched her grow up. He had been her first car. 67 years of memories, that ment everything. Sam was winkled and frail now, his hand shook as he raised it, resting it on the dashboard. He tried to speak as they took one last ride together. As they drove down the old country road to the lookout, the radio switched on. Tears coursed down Sam's cheeks as a song came through.

Love of mine some day you will die

But I'll be close behind

I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white

Just our hands clasped so tight

Waiting for the hint of a spark

If heaven and hell decide, that they both are satisfied

illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks

I will follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see

From Bangkok to Calgary

And the soles of your shoes are all worn down

The time for sleep is now

It's nothing to cry about

Cause we'll hold each other soon

The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide

That they both are satisfied

Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you

When your soul embarks

I will follow you into the dark

He knew when Sam's mighty heart ceased to beat. He knew the moment his last breath escaped his lips, ending the story that had began a mere 67 years ago. 67 years that had ment everything. It had been a great ride.

The funeral was simple. Beautifully simple. When it was over, all that was left of the boy who had given the world so much, was a stone and the Camaro who had loved him. Gently, a metal finger brushed across the top of the stone that said Samual Witwicky, beloved father, hero, friend... A soft, metalic voice intoned...

Thanks for the ride Sam.