It's a surprisingly sunny day in Avon, Ct. The birds are chirping and Lizzie Buckthorpe walks out of her red brick house, through the wet dew grass, and into her pepper white Mini Cooper.

She made a right up her street and turned onto the very busy Avon Road. Buckthorpe is driving along the street, thinking about her day. She plans out her babysitting schedule and is happy because she realizes that she can go to the gym.

She stops at a red light, looks down at her red nail polish, it's chipping. She decides that she will get a manicure tomorrow.

The stop light turns green. Buckthorpe continues driving four more miles on Avon Road.

"It's extremely crowded today," she thinks to herself.

She puts her left turn signal on and waits for a pause in traffic so she can squeeze onto Cedar Brooke Drive.

Tick, Tick, Tick, her turn signal steadily clicks as she patiently waits to turn left.

She glances in her rear view mirror and sees a black SAAB storming towards her. A small shriek comes out of Buckthorpe as she clenches the steering wheel.

The SAAB crunches into the back of Buckthorpe's pepper white car which is now scratched and stained black.

Buckthorpe slowly steps out of her car, with her hands shaking, she is extremely pale and looks as though she has seen a ghost.