Hello and welcome to my new story :))

I was going to hold off on posting this until I was completely finished with Colors, but I've had this prologue written forever and I just happened to re-read it again and just knew I had to post it now. Like my excitement got the best of me and I couldn't hold back. I actually have about two and a half chapters of this written already, so I figured posting this so soon couldn't hurt anything. However, my main focus is finishing Colors since I only have three chapters left, which means updating this will be a little slower than normal until my other story is finished. (Good news is that I only have 3 weeks of school left and I'm free of responsibilities)

Anyway, on to this story...as you can probably already tell, the set up of it is much different from any of my previous stories and I'm really excited about it. I know that the plot seems kind of similar to my previous story, Razor Sharp, but I can promise you that it is much different. I have much of my timeline constructed already, and I think this might be my longest fic yet. I'm kind of treating this story as a TV show, almost like every chapter is a new episode sort of thing. It is an interesting approach to a written fic, I know, but I'm trying something new.

When I sat down to write this author's note, I had a lot of things I wanted to say...but I've forgotten them all, haha. I'm sure they'll come back to me later. Anywho, enjoy this *very short* prologue to my new story...and yes, you're supposed to have many questions ;)

Prologue

July 10th, 2011

For the life of her, Haley James couldn't remember how she had ended up on that train track. She remembered the drinks at Legend's. She remembered telling the story of how she and her sister used to play on the train tracks when they were younger. But she couldn't remember how she physically ended up standing on said train tracks. Everything to her felt…cloudy. She didn't feel real. Nothing around her felt real.

It was supposed to be a fun night out with friends, something that her—boyfriend? Co-worker? Friend? At this point, she wasn't sure what to call him—had suggested. She wasn't sure why she agreed. For the last few weeks, she had spent all of her time holed up in her apartment. She didn't want to talk to anyone. She didn't want to be around anyone. Maybe she only said yes because she could never say no to the person asking.

She was acutely aware of her friends—if she still had the right to call them that—laughing. A month ago, she would've smiled at the sound. They weren't paying attention to her. They were too wrapped up in their own conversations. Besides, why would they pay attention to the game she was playing? That's all she was doing—playing a juvenile game of chicken. The game didn't start until you felt the ground tremble under the power of the train's wheels rubbing against the metal tracks. Only what she was doing didn't feel like a game. It felt darker…heavier. It felt like the end.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Nathan Scott smiling and her blood ran cold. He was smiling at something one of their friends had said to him, his eyes fixated on them rather than her. It was a weak smile though, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. She knew she was the reason for that and that guilt left her breathless. If she were being honest, his smile was always her favorite thing about him, next to his piercing blue eyes. It was his smile that caused her to fall so madly in love with him that it almost suffocated her at times.

She didn't want to fall in love with him and she had spent so much time trying to convince herself that she didn't love him. He was infuriating and everything that she hated in a man. But he set her soul on fire. In retrospect, she knew that it was always him. From the moment she met him, no one else mattered.

The desire to walk over to him and touch him hit her like a ton of bricks. She craved his warmth and in some twisted way, it felt like maybe touching him would be her last chance at survival. But just as soon as that thought had entered her mind, it was gone. All that it left behind was a darkness and numbness that swallowed her whole.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the pain in chest resonating so deep that she almost toppled over. All she saw was that little girl, the little girl that she let down. Her soft blonde curls, her bright green eyes, her wild smile…it was all there and it felt like a million bullets in her heart. Why didn't she just listen to her lieutenant? She was so damn selfish. She wanted so badly to prove her father wrong and because of that, the devil still walked the streets of New York.

Haley could still hear her father's harsh words, words that had cut her so deep she wasn't sure she would ever recover. Invisible scars forever imprinted on perfect porcelain skin, constant reminders of her weakness and stupidity.

"I told you that you weren't cut out for this job, Haley. You're weak. You never stop to think. God, I can't even look at you right now. This entire district knows you're my daughter and because of that, your mistakes mean more. How do you think all of this makes me feel? Makes me look? I'm ashamed to call you my daughter."

The worst part of all of this was that she wholeheartedly believed the things her father had said. She was weak. She didn't think. She was a failure.

The sound of the train's siren had her eyes popping open. She could feel the ground begin to shake beneath her. The sound of metal on metal drowned everything out. The two bright lights on the front of the train stood out harshly against the dark sky. The closer the train got, the brighter the lights seemed. She squinted her eyes as her heart began to hammer in her chest. She was breathing heavily and her entire body was trembling—from the intensity of the situation or from the ground shaking, she wasn't sure.

The screaming of her friends trickled in slowly over the roaring in her ears. She couldn't make out what they were saying. She heard traces of desperation. Fear. Desperate screams. Pleading cries.

The fear soared through her as the train came barreling towards her. The siren went off again, the lights completely blinding her. The large boxcar seemed to be moving in slow motion as everything around her came to a screeching halt. She didn't want this. She didn't want to die, she realized. She just wanted the pain to end. But even with her brain screaming at her that she needed to move, her feet seemed to have a mind of their own. They felt way too heavy o move, like they had become permanent fixtures to the metal tracks.

"Haley! Move!" Brooke called out, her voice strained with fear. "This isn't funny anymore."

"Goddammit, Haley! You've proved your point!" Clay's voice came next.

"Haley!" That time, it was Nathan calling out to her. For a moment, she faltered. The pain and desperation in his voice awoke something inside of her, but it still wasn't enough.

She closed her eyes and waited for the excruciating pain. The sound of the train's wheels were deafening now. Her life flashed before her eyes. It wasn't a surprise to her that every moment that replayed in her mind included Nathan—the first time they met, the first time he kissed her, the first time he told her that he was so in love with her that it hurt, the first time they made love…it was all there.

As if something clicked inside of her, her eyes popped open, but it was too late.