A/N: This is my first ever multi-chapter fanfiction story. All reviews would be greatly appreciated because i really want to know how everyone thinks. This is not a typical Bree/Diego fanfic, I wanted to try something different that no one had ever read before. So, i hope you like it. I know the first chapter starts out really slow but just give it a chance. Thanks.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of the twilight saga. All rights reserved to S. Meyer. I only own my original character, Veronica.
Chapter 1: The Afterlife
I believe in God, but not as one thing,
not as an old man in the sky.
I believe that what people call God
is something in all of us...
John Lennon
Veronica POV
I knew I was going to die before he even grabbed my neck. I felt everything slow down around me as my killer snapped my neck instantly and effortlessly. And for a minute, I felt nothing but the cold, damp pavement below me. But then, I sensed myself being pulled away from my own body, and I found myself staring down on my own cold, lifeless body.
I was definitely dead. I knew it without fully understanding. I was standing here, yet lying there in my killer's arms. My soul was no longer a part of myself; I was transparent… a floating ghost… a horror story come to life. My legs carried me over to the young boy holding my body gingerly as if I were made of glass. I knew I should be angry, furious even, but for some odd reason I couldn't find one bit of anger in my soul.
The boy just looked so… lost, so disappointed with himself. I bent down, placing my transparent hand on the boy's shoulder compassionately, taking a look at him for the first time. He had a baby face and looked no older than eighteen. His hair was dark, short, and youthfully curly—the kind of hair you just wanted to twirl around your fingers. He didn't appear to be a killer, but his red eyes told an entirely different story. I wondered what his name was because I honestly didn't feel right calling him my killer over and over.
He possessed some kind of innocent air surrounding him and I just felt compelled to help him in some way. Or take away his pain. Which I knew seemed wrong, due to the fact that I was dead because of him. But, I hated seeing him sad. I was so interested in the boy; I didn't even notice a man was standing right next to me.
The man was comprised of the same ghost-like appearance as me, but something about this man didn't appear dead. The man looked like he was stuck in the days of peace, love, and drugs; he was seriously the poster child for hippies. He was wearing a white v-neck shirt covered by a brown fringy vest and a pair of tattered flair jeans with no shoes or socks. His hair was blacck, shaggy, and really long. He appeared to be a John Lennon look-a-like. When the man noticed I was gazing back at him, he outstretched his arms as if awaiting a hug. "Welcome Veronica," hippie man said.
I stood up from the boy holding my body with widened eyes. "Who are you," I asked, keeping my distance.
The man smiled, looking many years older than he actually appeared. "Look deep within your heart and you shall already know," he replied simply.
I narrowed my eyes, not wanting to look within my heart for anything. Somehow, I knew I should trust this person. Maybe it was because I liked John Lennon or maybe because I had always read in books about special guides helping the dead to their destination in the afterlife. So, this was my guide, I supposed; I got a hippie. So after many seconds of silence, I found myself walking towards my hippie guide.
He placed his hands in front of me, palms up, and I took that as a sign and laid my own palms against his. I looked back at the boy and wanted to ask what to do about that. "Don't worry," the man said, as if he could read my mind—maybe he could. "Close your eyes." I did as the man said, closing my eyes tightly. The scent of sweet incense swept over my face and wrapped around my body and I felt as if I were flying, spinning; wind blew against my face and in the space between me and hippie man, but our palms stayed connected.
"Open your eyes."
I gasped when I saw the sight around me. We were standing in a completely different place—nothing like the dark, gloomy streets of Seattle. There were beautiful trees and flowers everywhere. The sun shone down and I caught sight of my hand, noticing I was no longer see-through. The whole aura of this beautiful place brought happiness and peace over my body in a magnitude I had never experienced before. I wanted to go skipping through the forest and let my bare feet slide against the lush grass.
"Come along, Veronica," hippie man announced, interrupting my viewing of the area around. He was already walking ahead and I started a little jog to catch up.
"Where are we," I asked.
Hippie man stopped abruptly and turned around, grinning wide. "Wherever you want to be," he answered, his brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight like copper.
He began walking again and I stood there frowning. Well, that didn't quite answer my question the way I wanted. "So, is this heaven," I asked, clearing up my question from before.
The man slowed his pace a little, placing a hand on a nearby tree. "Maybe," he replied, keeping his face turned away from me. "It's what you think."
Well, he still didn't answer me with a yes or no which was really becoming aggravating. I could tell this man was one of those people that enjoyed confusing others with his Zen life lessons and incomplete answers. I continued walking, following hippie man and glancing at a pretty little hummingbird. He finally stopped at a clearing in the forest, standing beside a telescope.
"Look," he said, gesturing towards the machine.
I bent down levelly and looked through the telescope. The sight inside was of the young boy still holding my body sadly. It was like time had frozen, keeping the scene at the same exact moment, in the same time, like watching a movie.
"Shall we walk again," hippie man asked.
I shrugged. "I guess. Is that all we do here? Walk?"
John Lennon look-a-like chuckled, gazing up at the sun and pulling out a pair of sunglasses with lavender lenses. "Not all the time. We can walk and talk."
I nodded and followed in step with him. He didn't say anything, so maybe he was waiting for me to ask more questions.
"Who is he," I asked, referring to the boy who killed me.
"His name is Diego… and he's a vampire."
So, he does have a name after all. Diego. I still felt bad for him, though I had no idea why. A part of me wanted to be furious for him taking my life, but I just couldn't. As for the vampire information, I knew that was coming. Only something supernatural could explain how fast and deadly he was, even if he didn't want to be.
"Why was he so… upset," I asked because I knew it was something other than my death.
"He lost someone very dear to him."
"A good friend?"
"A very good friend, indeed," hippie man said.
"Who is he? Diego's friend, I mean."
"Her name is Bree. And Diego believes she is dead."
"But, she's not," I asked, slightly confused.
"No, she's not," he responded. "She's very much alive and in good hands… It was a terrible misunderstanding."
I wanted to ask what happened with Bree and Diego. I wanted to know why he believed Bree to be dead. What had caused the misunderstanding hippie man spoke of? But, he continued on.
"And Bree believes Diego is dead. But, as you know, he's not. Ever since that fateful day, Diego has made some very bad choices. He's spiraling down a tunnel of dangerous outcomes… And that is where you come in, my dear."
"Me," I asked, surprised.
Hippie man smiled, making the wrinkles on the outer edge of his eyes more visible. "Yes. You, Veronica."
"Why me," I squeaked.
"Because you have a good heart, Veronica. You care for others even when they don't care for you."
"What is my role in all this? I don't even know this Bree girl. I barely even know Diego."
"When you were around Diego just after you were killed, what did you feel?"
"I felt… sadness… compassion… heartache… I just wanted to help him."
Hippie man nodded, taking my hand. "You already have the heart to help him and you already want to. All you have to do is… do it."
"Do what?"
"Diego is in great need of a guide, someone to help him along the way in choosing the right thing. Which, in turn, will help him to find Bree and together they will overcome."
He was silent for a moment, giving me time for everything to settle in. "So, you want me to be his guide. You mean like a… guardian angel?"
"Something along those lines. But, you will be unable to guard him from any harm. Your job is to help him with hard choices. Allow him to choose the right path… But, only if you want to."
I thought seriously of hippie man's offer. I really did want to help Diego; I knew for a fact, he needed someone. So, why can't that person be me? Sure, it appeared odd, having a ghost following a vampire around as a guardian angel but I'm sure weirder things have happened. I always wondered what life would be like when I die. But, I never thought about this. What did I have to lose?
A/N: I know that was really short and probably confusing. But please review, ask questions and I will reply back. Thanks for reading :)
