Umm, so this happened.

I just came up with this plot bunny out of the blue a little while ago and I decided I just HAD to make a story out of it.

I haven't written out the entire thing like I did with my current story, but I have it totally planned out and I am just ready to write!

This story is rated T because there will be swearing and such. Sabrina and Puck are 16, Daphne is like 12/13, and for some reason, Red and Canis don't exist in this story. I haven't actually read the series in forever so I've like, completely forgotten about their characters. So just pretend they never existed.

Enjoy!

Out of all the ways to die in the world, a lot of them stem from sheer stupidity. Like the girl who thought she could save some time in the morning by blow-drying her hair while in the bath tub. Or maybe, that guy who decided that shooting a firework off of his head would make one hell of a Fourth of July party. And let's not forget the drunk imbecile who thought it would be fun to go swimming, while forgetting he couldn't actually swim. And while those ways to die are quite stupid, I can't help but think the way I died was stupidest.

You see, I was hit by a car. No, the driver wasn't drunk. No, the car wasn't speeding through a red light. No, I wasn't wearing all black in the middle of the road at midnight. The thing that made my death so stupid was that I was hit by a car in broad daylight, wearing normally colored clothing, and standing in the middle of the driveway leading up to my house.

In Granny's defense, she couldn't have known I was about to run behind her car to grab my scarf that had been blown there by a sudden and strong gust of wind. It really was my fault. But damn it, I loved that scarf. I wasn't about to sit around and watch it become blackened with tire residue as Granny's clunker of a car backed over it. In hindsight, letting the scarf get ran over was the smart and safe option, but smart and safe are two things I'm not.

So I go to get my scarf, and before you know it, I'm lying flat on my back against hot concrete. I hear yelling and commotion, likely from the rest of my family watching from the side, but it sounds distant and too far away to matter. I try to turn my head, to see what the screaming is about, but that's when I realized I couldn't move my head. In fact, I couldn't move anything.

I don't really remember what happened after that, likely due to the fact that one of Granny's tires had rolled right over my little blonde head, effectively crushing my skull and nearly, but not quite, killing me on the spot. The whole death thing came a few seconds later when the front set of tires, following the rear set, rolled right over my neck this time. And only then, as Granny finally finished backing out, did she realize she had just rolled over and killed her eldest granddaughter.

And that was how I was found dead by my entire family. Skull cracked to reveal just a bit of mushed brain, blood trickling out of my mouth, neck smashed flat, and eyes glazed over with the realization of stupidity. It was definitely not a pretty sight. Luckily, my uncle, Jake, threw a hand over my little sister's eyes before she could get a good look. But that didn't stop her from vomiting up her lunch on the spot, which happened to be right over my torso. So then, not only was my dead body covered in tire grease and blood, but also half-digested grilled cheese and tomato soup.

I realize this is totally morbid and a little gross to hear about, but at least you didn't have to live it (no pun intended). And I didn't really die, believe it or not. Well, scratch that. I did die. I'm very, very dead. But while I don't believe in ghosts, or consider myself as a ghost, I did come back. No, not as a reincarnation or a white entity floating through the halls of my house. I'm just here. Nobody can see me or hear me or smell me. But I can see them and hear them and smell them. I can also see myself. If I look down, I can see my entire body, which looks exactly the same as it did when I was backed over, except minus the blood, crushed neck, and cracked skull.

I don't really know what's happening. I only died two hours ago. I'm not sure why I'm still here and not in an afterlife of any sort. But right now, I'm standing in a small, cramped room inside of a hospital. My family is here, and they were just told I was officially, and irreversibly, dead. And this is where our story begins.

So tell me what you think so far! Do you want more? It's kind of just a little prologue, I know, but does it intrigue you?

Thanks for reading! Please review!