Greg flipped to the first chapter, and was instantly hooked by the first paragraph:

"CHAPTER ONE. . . OF MANY.
I have always been two people: the real me and the person everyone sees as me. The thin line that separates the two is slowly starting to blur and do you know what? I am glad, because I am really afraid of whom I would see on each side."

Greg stopped reading suddenly and thought about how much that reflected his own feelings and inner thoughts. It kind of freaked him out, and it was only the first paragraph.

He shrugged it off and fell into the book, quickly digesting page by page. Maree Aveno's sick, dark humor mixed well with her life confessions and random ramblings, and some actual funny moments made Greg actually laugh.

When the author was recalling learning how to drive, she repeatedly mentioned how much she hated listening to lectures and car crash victims:

"I've learned many things from back when I was driving. I did a Driver's Ed course that involved many things, but the most vivid thing in my memory is, ironically, not driving at all. It was the classrooms. Let's go through a day in the life of a fifteen-year-old-girl, okay?
It's time to do Classroom. Now, classroom is exactly what all kids are trying to escape during the summer. From 8 o' clock (IN THE MORNING) to 4:45 (IN THE EVENING!! GAAK!) the teachers try to cram every little piece of information about driving straight into the skulls of teenagers, which, we all know, doesn't work.
That, and they show us videos. Videos which, probably by law, all had to be made before 1990 with teenagers who were complete victims of the fashion of the 80's. I missed most of the information on the tapes because the leggings and baggy sweatshirts and poofy hair distracted me. A lot.
Of course, and I have heard every single sad story about car crashes. A lot of teenagers have died in car crashes and the moral of all of these videos, to me, is: THOU SHALT NOT DRIVE. EVER. SERIOUSLY. LEARN TO FLY, AND EVEN THEN, WEAR YOUR SEATBELT.
Also, they manage to choke you with statistics, like, 'Every eight-five minutes and forty seconds, a woman who is writing a book with curly hair and glasses makes a bad joke and DIES.'"

Greg grinned and once again thanked God that no one was there to see him laugh at a book. What really stuck out in the whole book was what Maree wrote about when talking about people in general:

"We, as a people, are always looking for one thing: the truth. It's pretty funny, because the truth will do one of two things: either set you free or hurt like hell. Am I right? I think I am. We should call ourselves the Truthseekers."

Greg paused and reread the short paragraph. It rang through his mind and was the turning point for him. She was absolutely right. If she wanted to prove one thing with this book, it was the simple "truth" that life can be short and to not waste it. Her words continued to haunt him as he stood up, stretched his cramped muscles and went to go get a drink.

"The Truthseekers." Greg smiled as he heard his own voice echo in the kitchen. How could a young lady seem to know so much about life?

Before he knew it, it was one o' clock in the morning that Friday night and he read the last page of the book, which was explaining Maree's condition.

"EPILOGUE: Since we have gotten absolutely nowhere in this book except deep into my sad, twisted mind, I think I have to explain where this all came from. This book was written in January of 2002, five months after I was diagnosed with cancer. So it's just me in my hospital room and my heartbeat monitor. I think I'll call him Bill.
This book was nothing but an outlet, a vain hope of mine to leave my legacy before I leave this world, a futile effort so I will not be forgotten. History has a nasty habit of swallowing up things and leaving no trace of them for the future. I refuse to let that be me.
If this book should have any purpose, it is for you to give blood. Seriously. You have no idea how helpful it is."

Greg smiled and slowly shut the book. Her philosophical writing mixed with humor made him really think about his life. He realized how corny this was, but the book really helped him think about how much he took his life for granted. He was pretty sure she died afterwards, because her ending seemed rushed, so sudden, so desperate, before the last moment.

But, could a book change someone's entire outlook on life? Especially the life of one man, one lonely, stubborn man, who had nothing to turn to except a book?


"And the crime rate does not go up IF YOU TURN THE GRAPH UPSIDE DOWN!"
-Congressman Shrub from VCPR (Grand Theft Auto Vice City)