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Death Saved My Life- Prologue

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And it was the end.

I didn't see anything I expected. No bright, beautiful light came to greet me. I didn't feel a sense of release or a rush into a tunnel.

Everything turned dark. And that was it.

But then... What was that?

Far ahead, there was almost like a shadow. A silhouette in a pool of darkness. It was a darker shade of black, if that was even possible.

The air turned colder than it already was.

Was I going to hell?

I wasn't exactly a saint in my living years but I couldn't possibly be that bad... Right?

My heart dropped and now I could see how dying was painful.

Was this how it was? Was this some sort of pay back?

Or was this what was suppose to happen? Almost like the price of taking matters into your own hands. They'd say only God can take a life away, was this what happened when you tried to defy the laws of nature?

The blood that was suppose to stop flowing through my dead body turned cold and I was scared.

I was scared for the life that was suppose to end now. Why wasn't it over yet?

"Heres the deal kid," a voice ahead said. It wasn't demonic as I had expected but more like a husky bored voice. "Die now? Which I'll completely understand if you do, despite the whole cliche story it'll show." The voice sighed, as if he'd said this a million times and just wanted it to end. "Depressed teenage girl commits suicide, ignoring consequences. Everyone chooses it."

"Ignoring consequences...?" I echoed. Did I really want this?

"Or," he continued, as if I never spoke. "Go back. Go back to the misery, the pain of living, the hate, the oh so horrible world," he mimicked a whiny girls voice.

"What are the consequences?"

"Classified info kid."

"But then-"

"Decision is your kid, do you wanna live or die?" the male voice said, coming closer. Finally he came out of the shadows, and into the dim light around me.

The boy was actually around my age, sixteen with a blond fohawk. His hair was long and soft on top, falling over his, red rimmed, green eyes and trimmed short in what I assumed was his natural, black hair color.

He was dressed in a button down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a black tie that fell onto his dark black jean shorts and matched the stripped fingerless gloves he was wearing.

Ignoring the small details on him, what he was carrying in his hands made her gasp. He had a black and gray umbrella like burden.

But then again, how was an umbrella like his not a burden. I wouldn't believe him if he tried denying it.

Because his umbrella was like no other.

His umbrella had a thin, almost invisible string, in it hanged more than just a few bleeding hearts.

"So what do you want kid? Death or life?"




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