Looking back, I probably should have seen it coming; well I suppose you can always think like that in hindsight. But the strange thing is that I would never change a thing in my life that lead up to that day. The events that piled up, that brought my death also brought me to life. They made me realize what I'd been missing in life, but they also brought me to him.

Olivia

The stars shone bright in night sky, opposing the stark black abyss. With no sun to cloud her vision, she gazed longingly at the stars, wishing she could be far away from this place. What she'd give to have an exciting life like in her books. She'd pay to be Jeyne Westerling; hell, she'd even take Cersi's life and bang her brother if she had to. But that was all just fantasy. She had to attend to reality-reality where there were no chivalrous men like Robb Stark or Jon Snow. How she longed for excitement; to be someone other than herself... She wanted to be daring, brave and to love someone. She wanted that more than ever; no one could compare to the men from her books, fiction though they may be. They were everything she'd ever wanted. She sighed and ran a hand through her brown locks; they were dreams and that's all they could ever be. She'd come to terms with the fact that her life would always suck compared to any book... But that doesn't mean she couldn't hope.

Olivia pulled up the blanket from the hill and began her decent down the rocky slope. She'd come to cherish the time she spent here under the old oak tree, for this was the only place she ever felt at home. But she knew Jersey-her room mate and best friend-would worry if she was gone too long. The brunette got into the car and threw the blanket onto the backseat; she started up the car and began her trip back home. She wound through the empty country lanes, expertly turning in the pitch black; the fields and hedges only visible in the rays from her head-lights. Though she knew the way well through the fields, she was not expecting to see an elderly man flat on his back in the middle of the road, his face bleeding and battered. She came to a sudden screeching halt; somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear her brain screaming at her... Shouting at her to turn and run. She pushed open her door and grabbed a flash light from the passenger seat. Olivia made her way over to the man, fear coursing through her veins.

"Excuse me? Sir?" She asked worriedly.

"Help me, please!" he croaked, gasping for air.

The girl looked back at her car and bit her lip. This was dangerous and stupid and all those other things Georgia would berate her for; but she couldn't just leave this old man to die! So she crawled forward and placed her hand under his arm and helped him to stand. She helped him into the back seat of her car and began to drive home. The man was unconscious for the entire journey, and when they arrived outside her huge house, he was no different. Putting her hands under his armpits, she practically dragged the old man in. Opening the door (with difficulty), she looked around, desperate to get the help of her friend.

"JERSEY?!" she screamed, frantic at the amount of blood loss, as a pool of crimson stained her usually pristine carpets.

"What?!" Olivia heard the call from upstairs, the tone sharp and expectedly angry at being disturbed at this hour.

"Umm... I need a hand?"

Her roommate came around to see what she'd realised to be quite a sight; her roomate took one look at the blood dripping from the gaping wound on the man's chest, his breathing shallow and uneven, leading her to one conclusion.

"Liv! Stop bringing injured people to the frickin' house! We're not a hospital!"