Paul Is Dead

Drive My Car

"No, Paul, stop! You're slowing the whole fucking song down, and you're out of tune."

"The song is supposed to be that slow, John. I wrote it, not you, remember?"

"Would you two quit the fuckin' fighting? You're worse than a married couple!"

So far, rehearsal was not going well that night. All we had been doing was arguing, and we had made virtually no progress on our new album.

"Well maybe we wouldn't have to fight if McCartney could just get his part right," John retorted, giving me the evil eye.

"Forget it, I'm out of here," I sneered, beginning to pack up my bass. I was not in the mood for another night of arguing like a bunch of teenage girls. I saw Ringo roll his eyes from his seat on his drum set, but I ignored it.

"Oh come on, Paul. Don't be so dramatic. It's five in the morning and you're just going to walk out?" George said bitterly, and John smirked. Ignoring him, I threw my coat on and marched out of the studio and into the crisp, November air. I stopped at the payphone that was right outside the building and slid a quarter into the slot before dialing Emma's number. She picked up almost immediately.

"Hello?" she said, her cheerful voice coming through the receiver.

"Hey Em. It's me, Paul."

"Oh, hi Paulie. How was rehearsal?" She sounded drowsy, and I knew that I had woken her up.

I spoke through clenched teeth. "Not great. I decided to pack up and head out early." She sighed on the other line.

"I'm sorry, darling. I know things have been hard lately. I'll start breakfast now, so it should be all ready for you when you get home."

Despite my foul mood, I smiled. "Thanks, Em. You always know how to cheer me up." Even through the phone, I could tell she was smiling too.

"Of course, Paul. Anything for you."

I cleared my throat and there was a brief moment of silence before I spoke again. "I'm gonna get going now. It's so early and I'm exhausted, and the rain is really starting to pick up. I just want to get home."

"Okay Paul. I love you."

I smiled. "I love you too Em. See you soon." I hung up the phone and hurriedly made my way over to my Austin Healey. I allowed the car to warm up for a few minutes before I drove off into the darkness of the morning. My hands clenched around the steering wheel tightly as I drove the half-hour drive from EMC Studios to the apartment that I had with Emma.

Emma Blackwood was my girlfriend of nearly two years now. I had known her since before The Beatles had taken off as a band, and she's stayed by my side ever since. She put up with things I knew other girls wouldn't, like all the constant fights between me and the lads. My grip on the steering wheel became tighter as I thought about all the fighting that had been going on lately.

Although I loved making music and I loved being a part of this band, the stress had really been getting to me lately. I felt the headache pounding in my temples, and I closed my eyes only for a moment in an attempt to find some relief.

Apparently, one moment was too long.

An unexpected bend had come up in the road, and the front of my car made impact with a guard rail. My head jolted forward, and the last thing that I remember seeing was the pointed ends of the rail going through my windshield and straight towards my head.