I so hope you love this story, it's better than it sounds in the first chapter, I promise.


Sam Witwicky looked up at the hospital room where his wife, Mikaela Witwicky, was playing with their six-year old daughter, Nicole. She was so happy and oblivious to the chaos and diseases in the world, some much like hers.

Sam was in the darkest corner of the parking lot with his guardian, Bumblebee, and the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime. He felt the weight of the shard of Allspark in his pocket. The cause of this meeting and the one possible solution to his daughter's lung cancer.

A month before, a few weeks after Nicole's birthday, she started becoming breathless quickly and started complaining of chest pain. A week after, she started having coughing fits. They thought it was a really bad cold. Only when she started coughing up blood did they take her to the hospital. She was diagnosed with lung cancer.

It had ripped them apart to see their little girl in pain.

Sam took out the shard. Ratchet, the Chief Medical Officer, had declared it safe to the touch. Sam had wrapped a wire around the shard to secure it and had strung cube-shaped beads on it. The result was a necklace.

He had had a hunch that it might work. All the Autobots thought it might work.

He looked at Bumblebee and Optimus. "Do you really think it will work?" he asked softly.

They both nodded. "But it's your choice, Sam." said Optimus. Sam looked at the hospital window.

He'd do anything for her.

Sam walked towards the front doors.

Sam knocked on the door softly and passed a nurse on the way in. He walked to the only bed in the room.

Mikaela was singing softly to Nicole, who was bundled up in her favorite-colored yellow blankets almost asleep.

Mikaela looked up and smiled. She frowned when she saw the necklace. 'Are you ready for this?' Sam mouthed to her.

She paused, then nodded.

Sam knelt down and tried to put the necklace around Nicole's neck without waking her. But the disturbance caused her to open her eyes. "Hi, Daddy."

Sam smiled. "Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Nicole shrugged."Ok, I guess- " She cut off as she went in to a coughing fit. She brought her hand away from her mouth and saw the little droplets of blood on the skin.

Nicole looked at both her parents. "Mama, Daddy, am I dying?"

At first there was silence, but then Mikaela choked out a sob and walked to the window, crying. Sam felt a few tears slide down his face, but wiped them away quickly.

Fearing she said something wrong, Nicole's eyes started to tear up. " The big metal people said that this was the beginning of the long road to my des- destim-"

"Destiny." Sam whispered. Nicole nodded. "And they said not to worry 'cause it wasn't my time."

When Sam had met the Dynasty of the Primes, he only told Mikaela, Bumblebee, and Optimus. Wondering if Mikaela was thinking the same thing, he looked up.

Mikaela had came back to the bed and was staring at her daughter in a look of awe. She slowly turned her head towards Sam, with tears still in her eyes.

Sam felt a tugging at his shirt and looked down to see that his daughter had a hold of his shirt. "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Sam cleared his throat. "Oh, um, nothing. But hey, look what I got you." He put the shard necklace in her small hands. She looked over it and fingered the shard dangling from the wire. "This looks like the peice of metal from my dream..." she said with a faraway look in her eyes, then she went into a coughing fit.

When she stopped, she was breathing heavily and her hands were shaking as she tried to put the necklace on. Giving up, she held the neckalce out. "Can you please put it on me?"

Without a word, Mikaela lifted Nicole's head and Sam placed the necklace around her neck. When they were done, the shard sat nestled in the hollow of her neck.

Nicole looked at Sam and before she closed her eyes, he thought he saw a flash of bright blue. "I love you, Momma. I love you, Daddy."

"We love you, too, sweetheart." Mikaela whispered. Soon enough, Nicole was sleeping peacefully.

In the morning, the cancer was gone.

10 years later...

Nicole POV

Fire...Shouting...Sirens...Roars...Blasts... Suddenly I was bathed in blood red light from two menacing eyes from above. Suddenly, a metal looking arm reached out.

Then I was sitting up in bed, a scream dying in my throat. Actually, the word bed is too holy for my mattress with sheets. Looking around, I calmed myself down by studying every detail of the attic. From the cardboard boxes full of my clothes, to my stacks of books, and finally, to my shoulder bag I used for a backpack.

Out of habit, I reached up to my necklace and started rubbing the metal shard for comfort. Maybe today wouldn't be such a bad day.

God, who am I kidding? Today was gonna be horrible. It was freaking Monday.

I looked over at the little thirty-dollar GoPhone I had bought myself from Wal-Mart and checked the time. 7:30. Crap. I'll be late if I dont hurry.

I rolled off the mattress and on to my hands and knees on the floor. As it turns out, I rolled right over my fat, white and gray, adopted-stray cat, Spice. She mewed at me grumpily and pawed at my arm, leaving three red scratch marks. "Good morning to you, too," I sighed. And people wondered why I called her Spice.

I got up and walked over to my clothes boxes. After thinking for a few moments, I picked out a yellow tank top and some jean shorts to go with a black jacket and my black tennis shoes.

Shutting the box, I walked over to the shoulder bag and hoisted it up on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Spice get up off the mattress. "Don't let Phil catch you!" I warned her.

Who is Phil you might ask? He's my foster dad. And you might ask again, 'Where's your parents?'. Well, if you asked me in real life, I'd punch you in the face and say 'None of your business', and call you a few names. This gets me in trouble at school. A lot.

But since this is the story of how my life changed, I'll let it pass. Be glad I did... Anyway, I won't sugarcoat it.

My parents, Sam and Mikaela Witwicky, are dead.

Eight years ago, when I was, well, eight, there was a gas explosion in my parent's two story house. Every thing burned to the ground, and everything we owned was gone. Well, except my dad's yellow and black-striped Camaro. The Camaro just disappeared the night of the fire. My parents died saving me, and while they lost their lives, I escaped without a scratch. Or, at least, that's what a witness said happened. I didn't remember any of it. It's what doctor's call a 'Traumatic Experience'. And you know what, I never did learn where that guy came from. He said his name was Orion Pax, or something like that. Huh.

Anyway, alot of the time I feel guilty about their deaths, then I get mad at them for leaving me and usually throw or hit something.

Man, I really hate talking about personal stuff. Hate it.

I walked down attic stairs, careful to be quiet in case Phil was awake. I wanted to take his old faded blue Chevy truck to school. I was 16, after all, and had my license(amazingly, I had passed, even after calling the woman in the car with me a few names; it's not my fault I pressed the brakes too quickly and slammed her head on the dashboard).

Soon I was down the hall, peeking around the corner, into the living room. Apparently, he was drunk, because there was beer cans everywhere and his thinning gray hair was everywhere as his head was laying on the arm of the chair. Perfect.

I walked to the other end of the hall to my bathroom and set my clothes and bag on the double sink. With the shower running, I started to undress.

I was reluctant to take my necklace off because everytime I took it off it feltas though I had lung cancer or some other illness again. You see, when I was five, I was diagnosed with lung cancer. As a gift, my parents had given me the necklace. Then, all of a sudden, poof. The cancer's gone. At the time, my little six-year-old brain had suspected nothing. But I grew suspicious as I got older, because they did never tell me what the shard was made of.

Ever since the cancer, I have never gotten sick. Not even chicken pox had been sent to me by the Great Almighty. The only times I felt sick was when I had to take it off, like taking a shower. But I never went swimming. I had never been taught to swim.

I had always assumed it had to do with a connection to my parents. Boy, was I wrong.

Just as I finished drying off, the first wave of coughing hit me. Out of experience, I reached for my necklace and put it on, looking in the mirror. As soon as my hands left the necklace, a feeling of calm came over me and for a second I thought I saw my golden hazel eyes flash bright blue.

Muttering about sniffing up to much of Spice's hair affecting my brain, I finished dressing. I brushed through my slightly curly black hair and pulled it back in a black clip.

I grabbed my shoes and quietly slipped them on. Grabbing my shoulder bag, I walked down the hall and tried to quietly to sneak across the living room.

No matter how hard I tried, I always seem to get caught.

Phil opened one of his bloodshot eyes. "Dont take my truck," He mumbled, closing his eye.

I threw my hands up in the air. "I'll be late for school again!"

"Well, too bad. Not my problem any way."

I growled in frustration, but marched out the door anyway.

I set off at a brisk walk down the weed-ridden sidewalk. You see, I don't live in a high-dollar neighbor hood. In this neighborhood, there was chain link fences and at night, you would probably get mugged by a drunk idiot. I speak from experience(the guy ended up with a bad bump on his head; I had just happened to grab a big chunk of brick and smack him over the head with it).

I checked my phone again and saw that I had 5 to 8 minutes before school started. "Dammit!" I snapped aloud and then set off at a run. I could've run for hours, which was why the Track coach had asked me to join. But I wasn't really sociable, so I refused.

The only friend I had was a country blonde named Taylor. At first I had tried to scare her off by threatening her, and then flat out ignored her. After two really long weeks of being stalked, I asked her what she saw in me that made her want to be friends. All she said was that she saw the good in me. I had snorted and asked, "What good?"

I started to cross a deserted road when my hair came out of the clip. The clip bounced to the ground and my hair spilled around me. I cursed and ran back to the middle of the road to get the clip.

Only then did I hear the engine of the police car barreling toward me. I knew that I didn't have time to jump out of the way, so I waited for the sweet reunion with my parents.

I think I shut my eyes, because all I remember was feeling the impact of the car, a searing pain, and then...blackness.

So much for looking both ways before crossing the road.

So...review! It gets better! I promise!