1 Chapter One

The last thing I remember before the darkness was the screeching of cars against the street, shattering of glass, and incoherent screams of pain. I remember the truck swerving dangerously one second, then suddenly feeling a huge jolt the next second, telling me we had crashed. I remember being thrown forward out of the car. Its all a blur after that. There was blood. Lots of blood. And broken glass. I couldn't see anything. I was in excruciating pain for what felt like forever. Then the pain abruptly ceased. I expected myself to wake up. I expected to see the horrifying remains of our family's minivan scattered across the street and see the rain pouring all around me in the dark night. Or wake up to find myself in a hospital. I saw neither.

Instead, the pain was replaced by anger, regret and fear. I felt lightweight, almost as if I were floating. Then I felt my eyes open, only to be met with more darkness. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I felt myself spiraling into the black abyss of emptiness. The darkness swallowed me whole. The silence was deafening.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I began to see light. It was very faint at first. It was definitely expanding. It wasn't very bright at first. But as it got closer, it became almost as blinding as the darkness. I lurched forward, my eyes shut tightly, and plunged into the energized light. Stupid thing to do, but I didn't feel as if I had any real control over my body. It was more like, instinct. I felt myself steady on the ground, but I didn't feel legs underneath me. It took me a few moments to open my eyes. After a few minutes (was it minutes? Time was hard to tell) I could finally see again.

I took in my surroundings. I was in a brightly lit classroom. There were about two dozen children in the room. It looked like a first grade classroom. My eyes darted over to blonde figure sitting at the desk in the front of the room. She looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who she was. I focused my attention on the kids in the room. No one seemed to notice that I was even there. They seemed to be doing a project with glue and construction paper. My eyes fixed upon a little girl with brown hair, which were tied into pigtails. She sat at a table alone. She didn't look happy. My eyes widened as I realized who she was. This was me. The teacher was my own first grade teacher, Ms. Faust. I had loathed her.

A couple of girls approached 6-year old me. They had a mean look about them. I recognized them as Taylor Lewis and Gigi Kiras, two girls who had bullied me all my life. One of them grabbed the crayon that was in Little Me's hand. They broke it in half. The other grabbed the glue from the table. They twisted off the lid and began to pour it on the piece of construction paper she (I?) had been coloring on. Then it hit me. This had happened already. I remembered this.

I glanced at the teacher. She just sat the desk and watched. Taylor and Gigi were laughing. Then Taylor, the one with the glue, fumbled with the bottle. My stomach lurched as a realized what was about to happen. I ran and tried to push Little Me out of the way. But my hand just went right through her. This was a memory. I was just watching. No one knew I was here. I watched as the glue fell out of Taylor's hand, and fell over onto Little Me. Her (my?) clothes, hair, and face were covered in white glue. The teacher chose now to get up from her desk and intercept. The girls ran back to their seats. She came over to Little Me and scolded me for making such a mess. The two girls had gotten off scot-free.

I remembered this. This happened in first grade. I had gone home early and I had to cut almost all of my hair off because we hadn't been able to wash the glue out. I had just watched something that happened in the past. But how was that possible? That had happened over 11 years ago. I was 17 now. In my junior year of high school. Or was I? Then realization hit me. The truck. The crash. The wet road. We had crashed. I was thrown out of the windshield and landed on the cold, hard, wet road. My family. Was my family okay? My sister was only nine. Was she alright? And where was I? I-I wasn't dead, was I? Had I really not survived? If I really was dead, then why was I here? Why wasn't I in the Afterlife or wherever dead people go when they die? Was I a ghost then? Why was I all alone? Why had I just seen that memory? It was so random. A million more questions ran through my head. I was back in the dark empty space. But I saw the light again. And this time it was coming quicker. I was pulled towards it and was swallowed by the bright light.

I opened my eyes again. This time, I was at home. I saw my younger self. I was a bit older now, maybe 9 or 10. I was sitting in the living room, on the couch. My old cat, Tessa, was sitting in my lap. My entire family surrounded me on the living room couch. Everyone was crying. Then I remembered. This is when she died. She had severe bone cancer and she was in a lot of pain. Tessa was wrapped in a blanket. Everyone gathered around her and took turns saying good bye. Then my parents took her away, and drove to the hospital. I never saw her again. Tessa had been our cat since before I had even been born. This was one of the saddest moments I ever had in my life. Seeing her go had been so hard.

The memory ended suddenly. The light was leaving again. It was pitch black again. Why did I see this memory? I wanted to scream, because at this point I wasn't even sure if I was alive or not. I was confused, scared and most of all, angry. I didn't know where I was and I was all alone. I wondered what I even looked like now. Too late. The light had come back. And it was coming faster that ever.