A/N: Thanks to Gambitluver2009 for this one! Now read and review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and nothing owns me – it works out, you see.

Fear is only as dep as the mind allows. - Japanese Proverb

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
- Edgar Allan Poe

Scott regretted getting in the car as soon as Kitty got behind the wheel. Aside from the fact that Kitty had a tendency to drive like a bat out of hell, the car was a literal piece of junk. The exterior was rusting and the interior was slowly coming apart and he didn't even want to consider how many miles it got to the gallon. The tires, however, were new but only because the previous tire had all been flat. Kitty had bought the car for 150 dollars from an old guy who lived across town. Still, in Kitty's mind it had been 'a total bargain', had a lot of 'character' and only needed 'a little fixing up.'

It took Kitty five tries before the engine started. Scott used this time to take deep breaths and brace himself for the ride. A small group had formed nearby to watch them drive off – and to assist them should the car suddenly topple over, die, and or blow to pieces.

"I've got!" Kitty exclaimed as the engine suddenly came to life with a thundering roar. The group jumped back in surprise. "Here we go," Kitty said as she started down the driveway with increasing speed. Scott was immediately thrown back in his seat. In the rear view mirror he could see members of the group either waving or crossing their fingers.

Without waiting for the gate to completely open, Kitty sped out into the street and took a very sharp left turn. Scott was grateful that the car couldn't go over eight-five miles per hour as they journeyed down the street. After about fifteen minutes of sharp turns and sudden stops they came to the railroad tracks. As luck would have it that was when the car chose to breakdown.

After a few futile attempts to start the car, Scott decided to take charge. "Don't panic. All we have to do is call someone. Now where did I put my cell phone?" He searched his pockets but came up empty. "Kitty, do you have your communicator with you?"

"It's in the glove compartment." Scott tried the glove compartment but it wouldn't open.

"It's rusted shut," he said.

"No problem," she phased her hand and then, to Scott's completely horror said, "Oops."

"What do you mean 'oops'?" he asked, agitated.

"I must have, like, left it at home." There was a pause. "So, like, now what?"

"First," he said, reaching for the door handle, "we get out of the car." Just then the black and white crossing bars came down. Because of where the car had stopped, one of the bars landed on the roof of the car, upsetting the thick layer of rust and dust on the roof. The loud, long whistle of a train could be heard. Ah, shit," he cursed. "Out of the car –now!"

There was no need to get out of the car though, because no sooner had they heard the train, than the car began to move forward. It pushed under the bar and onto the street. Kitty sat motionless, her hands gripped tightly on the wheel of the car. Once the train had gone on it's way and the stripped bars had risen, they got out of the car to investigate why the car had moved.

"Like, oh-my-god, are those, like, handprints, Scott?" Kitty asked. Scott was speechless as he stared at the 13 sets of all-too apparent handprints imprinted in the dust of Kitty's car. He vaguely recalled hearing about some sort of accident that had happened not too long ago. He remembered hearing about how cars – new cars – would stall and then mysteriously be pushed out of the way. He shivered despite himself.

"Is-is the car working now?" he asked.

"I'll check." A few seconds later the engine roared to life.