<Prologue>
Harry Styles' swanky red car careened down the narrow country backroad. He couldn't see very well. He told himself it was the fog, but fog doesn't trickle down your face. He hadn't meant to break Miranda's heart, but it would have never worked out, obviously. She was...well, Miranda was-
At that moment, a bird flew toward Harry's car, slamming into his windshield. Distracted, Harry missed a turn, and his car plummeted down the steep hillside. Harry, not wearing a seatbelt, tumbled in the interior of his car, and he felt something sharp hit his head. As his car slowly stopped rolling, it hit a large rock. The impact shattered the windshield, and Harry felt tiny glass slivers impale him all over his body. He put a hand to his head, and felt blood there. He was bleeding all over. The car gave one last, halfhearted tumble, and Harry was trapped underneath his own seat. More pain erupted through his body as the pressure of the heavy metal seat crushed his body with it's bulk.
"Miranda..." Harry called, weak with pain and loss of blood. Almost instantly, a pale figure in a long, white dress appeared beside him.
"Oh, Harry!" she cried, then knelt down beside him.
"Miranda... it hurts..." She reached out to touch him, then withdrew her hand.
"It's okay Harry. It'll feel better soon. I should know." Little blood stains were growing all over his shirt, and Miranda resisted the urge to massage his blood caked curls. Harry's eyelids fluttered closed, and Miranda allowed herself a small smile. He left her because it would have never worked out between them. But now that he was dying, they could be together. Harry moaned in pain.
"Harry, it'll be okay, I promise." Miranda touched his hand. Her small fingers passed right through his palm. "It doesn't hurt so much once you're dead." Then she lay as close to Harry as her ghostly figure would allow, and waited for her love to die.
