Death is inevitable (or at least that's what they all say). I suppose, though, that they are correct. I mean, it's sort of obvious. No one ever gets a choice. No one is ever asked, "Hey, do you wanna die or...?" "Nah, dude, I'm good." "Cool, bro." It just happens, often in gruesome, horrible ways. Or worse: unexpected ways.

However, no one ever mentions life. More specifically, life after death. Or the afterlife. Well, if we get into specifics, they do mention it. Some might even say that people spend way too much time thinking about it. Though it's all theories, really. No one's ever really gone up and came back to tell everyone about their adventures in the Great Beyond. Once you're up, there's no coming down. You stay up.

As for theories, we have our religious radicals up first. They have the whole boundary, two-sides thing. Life and death. Heaven and hell. Good and bad. Perfect and sinner. I've always been scared of this mantra, to be honest. I mean, one mistake, one 'sin', and you're done. That's all it takes to tip the scales and send you to a fiery pit of ... darkness.

Lovely.

There should be an in-between, don't you think? Somewhere the Okays go. Those who don't kill but who don't save. A middle point. That would be fair and, frankly, far less terrifying.

Next, we have our Sciencies! Commonly known as practical people or logical beings. Either way, their main theory is that nothing happens when we die. We're just buried, our flesh serving as a tasty meal for worms or insects or cannibals. Naturally, this brings about pleasant mental reassurances. This is probably even scarier than the religious point of view. At least there, you exist. Can you imagine not living? At all? Anywhere? It would be so boring, I think I'd die! Erm, again.

I might have become an atheist, if it weren't for one thing: souls. Where the hell do we go? Not our bodies, but us. Our dreams and passions and hopes and lives and us. The very essence of our being, that never dies? We have to go somewhere, right?

Besides these theories, we have some other equally fascinating ideas. I won't go into detail about those because I don't know much about them. Though I ponder about death, I'm not the kind of person who pulls up Google and searches them up. I find it more interesting to just lie down and stare at clouds and let my heart think and teach me. In the end, though, I'm back with an I-don't-know answer. Because I don't know. No one does.

My life, to be fair, was never hard. Sure, I wasn't the best student. I was a horrible athlete, and a social mess. Sure, I didn't always get along with my mom. But my worries – real worries – were virtually nonexistent, unless you count that day I saw the most beautiful dress (Chanel) and my mom refused to buy it for me. It was only, like, eight hundred and fifty three dollars! That's nothing, really! Honestly, some people...

Ahem.

I was just a teen who thought a lot and had big dreams and wanted something more. I'm sure lots of teens want that. Right? I wasn't anything special.

But then I died.

It really wasn't glamorous or sexy or heroic. It was actually clumsy and awkward and un-noble. A bit embarrassing, if I look back at it. I could have prevented it. I didn't even die for a noble cause. I just ... died.

The funny thing about death is that it happens all the time. Twenty-four/seven. A person dies every second, is that not the statistic? And we brush it off as nothing, a simple casualty. "Aw," we sigh. "I hope they rest in peace." A week later, we'll probably forget their name. We go on with our lives. Not that we can be blamed. We're just too used to it.

When it happens to someone we know, we stop. Because then – then – death demands to be felt. The life ended was more than a name, an article, a news story, a momentary frown or pout or prayer. Then, the person is a passion, a personality, an extraordinarily unique person who is so much more than we will ever know.

When one dies themselves, we may expect the feeling of death to be strong enough to push us over the edge, and let our bones turn to dust and our hearts to sand. But when I died, I felt almost calm. Of course, the moment before actually dying is full of panic and fear, purer and rawer than anything. Because that's when your heart races and your brain scrambles and all you can do is think, I'm going to die, I'm going to die. And then you think of all those theories and you panic because what if I did something wrong? It's a moment of confusion and panic. And regret. Before you die, things catch up to you, things you wish you could forget.

Death is a tangle of feeling.

What happened after death, however, if the real story here. The real jaw-dropper. A tale that will make you laugh and a cry or maybe even just stare and snort and shake your head in disbelief. I doubt you'll believe me. Hell, I barely believe me (good luck figuring out how that works)!

But I will say it now: this story is true. One hundred percent recounts of occurred events, albeit insane and amazing events.

Keep in mind that these are also scary events. Painful. Horrible, at times. Events that made me want to cry and scream and hit things and scream until I fell asleep.

Everything – adventure included – comes at a price. You cannot gain without giving something of equal value. Equivalent exchange. An alchemist taught me this, and I regret to inform you he is correct. Especially because said alchemist is also very infuriating and arrogant and a pain in the ass and—

Okay. I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I do that when I'm nervous, see. Why am I nervous now? Because you, my friend, are reading my story. And stories are personal things. It's like sharing a part of your soul. It's a big deal. And lots of things could happen, should this be found.

My point, in telling you all this, is that this is a story I wish to share, regardless of possible consequences. Take from it what you will.

What is my name? Tally Kingston. Female. Wanderer. Ponderer.

I was fifteen – nearly sixteen – years old when I died.

This was how it started.

this actually, believe it or not, came about quicker than i thought it would. weird, huh? Lia has low expectations for herself. though i do hope i fulfilled yours, dear reader, whatever they may be. :) and i hope you aren't pissed, especially if you're an old reader.

and by old, i mean seventy and up.

just kidding!

by old, i mean those who've read the original version of this story. a version that will probably get taken down before the next chapter of this story will be up (January sixth or so, as i've typed it up already! hurray for responsibility!), unless i get a considerable amount of people begging for it to stay up. which is doubtful. :3

however, i do hope you guys like the new version! i've worked hard on it. and it was fun, though a long process. writing is always fun! :D

so. in all honestly, this rewrite isn't too different from the original. we still have Tally, Justin, Darcy, Maddie. though Tally's mom has changed up, and we have a bit more insight into some of the characters. plus, it starts out differently.

the title is different. i hope no one's pissed about this. that would be nice. and to anyone wondering, yes, i was inspired by the Thirty Seconds to Mars song. DEAL WITH IT, OKAY? *hides*

and as i don't have much more to say, i should be on my merry way. ^_^

le sexy rhyme. hehehe.

ahem.

so! enjoy, my friends, enjoy! please review, because reviews make me happy.

happy reading!