"....I crashed my car into the bridge. I watched, I let it burn. I threw your shit into a bag and pushed it down the stairs. I crashed my car into the bridge. I don't care, I love it. I don't care....."
All three occupants of the 1997 Monte Carlo sang along in various pitches, doing small jigs while sitting in the speeding vehicle. The work day had been long, but none of that matter, as it was the long-awaited day of Friday. Alcohol hung in the stagnant air of the car, a clear sign that all three of them were intoxicated. As bad as a decision this was, none of that matter to the driver; a man named Lewis Lander.
It was barely 9 o'clock, and Lewis was already well into being 'smashed', a way he coped with the indescribable and nearly unbearable pain of his day-to-day existence at this point. With the pains of sobriety well beyond the grasp of his inebriated perception, he sang all to the song along with his two co-workers. It wasn't long before the trio's debauchery was interrupted by tragedy.
Lewis never saw the stop sign, but he did see the car. Alas, it was well too late, though. Lewis was going nearly 80mph as he slammed on the brakes, the headlights of another car catching his peripheral vision. Time seemed to slow down for the young man, as he grasped the steering wheel with both palms. In a matter of seconds, Lewis' life changed forever. The joy that was transpiring only moments before, now seemed years in the past, as terror and horror possessed the intoxicated man. The last thing Lewis remembered was seeing the face of the driver before he hit, his headlights illuminating the face of the all too young girl; not ready for the speeding machine of death that was careening towards her. Then, everything was black.
Time passed, Lewis felt no pain, but he knew he was 'alive', in a sense. He could not see, but he could definitely hear. He could hear the booming words, rebounding across his entire being, issuing a set of instructions. He was to be a 'guide' of sorts. It took an immense amount of time, at least to Lewis, to understand what had happened. Eventually, the shell of the what once was the young man managed to piece it together. He had died in that wreck, near instantly, and was now in limbo. The instructions that were repeated over and over was that he was going to return to the world of the living, and become the 'guide' of a girl, the one whom he had stricken with tragedy. As time passed, Lewis gleamed more information on what had happened. He had killed a girl's sister, and now he was going to be sent to watch over the girl, in order to redeem himself.
More time passed, and Lewis received more details about his mission. This would be his only chance to be able to escape the hell that was limbo. Eventually, through the booming voice, he learned the girl's name, where she lived, even how she was fairing in life without her sister. Just as it seemed that Lewis was about to go insane after the considerable amount had passed, he felt his entire being shake with an ungodly shock of pain.
Vision, smell, hearing. It was all back. He stood in the middle of a semi-dark street. The sun had just set, it seemed. Lewis glanced around, taking his new surroundings where trying to get used to be 'alive' again. He stood in front of the yard of a relatively nice house with an empty driveway. As Lewis went to take a step, trying to remember if the instructions he had received were a joke, and if it had all been a dream, when he realized he wasn't necessarily 'standing'. Lewis floated roughly two feet in the air, and it started to dawn on the young man that this was all very real.
~ Well, I guess I really am going to be some sort of spirit guide. ~ Even in his thoughts, the skepticism broke through. Looking up from the ground and towards the house, Lewis wondered how exactly he would go about explaining the situation to the girl, ~ Hey! Remember the drunk driver who totally merced your sister? Well, here I am! I'm going to be your personal spirit guide! ~ Lewis wondered how insane the sentence would sound when said aloud.
Instead of answering the door, like a normal person, Lewis decided to take advantage of his floating ability. Without much more hesitation, figuring the more he pondered on the situation the more likely he'd go insane himself, he floated up to a second story window, that appeared to have a light on. Peering inside, Lewis tried to make head or tails of the contents of the room, unaware how he might look committing such a action.