A/N: Hi. :) Some of you was reading and reviewing my previous story 'The Throat Ripper'. When I ended it I promised I would write something new. And I kept the promise. ;) Here's new story, different than the previous one. What have I to add? Everything you need to know now is in the summary and this Chapter.

I don't know how often I will be publishing new Chapters because I'm extremely busy nowadays - being a senior in a high school sucks. :/ At first I need some reviews to know if it's make any sense to publish new Chapters. So if you read this and leave a review, I'll be very thankful!

That's all so far. Hope you'll like this kind of unusual story.

PS The title is taken from Akron/Family song 'Don't be afraid, you're already dead (Love is simple)'.

Zero

I've never believed in all these fireworks connected with death like going toward the light in a tunnel but when I'm dying, I expect to experience even a substitute of spectacular dying from movies, for example this quickly displayed video with scenes from my life. But all of it turns out to be a bullshit, nothing like that happens. When I'm dying, I see only blinding white light and then a darkness. Nothing more.

Too bad.

I've never believed in an afterlife – Hell, Heaven, Purgatory, reincarnation and the others I don't know. I've always laughed at those gulls who believed there's something after death – I knew there's nothing more, you just die and you're not here.

But when I'm dying all my beliefs are verified.

(Verified... how the hell I know this word?)

I raise my languid eyes and immediately after I close it back, blinded by the glare of white light. My heart beats anxiously, that light makes me dread – after all, in a certain sense, it was caused my death. Finally, I nerve myself to re–open my eyes and look around vacantly.

It seems I'm in some kind of hall which is high and spacious, it looks like a church. And – of course – it's white. I've never liked white colour, I died because of white and it seems that whiteness will torment me even after death.

I stand up slowly, expecting a pain or even a dizziness but nothing like this happens, standing up isn't a problem for me what makes me a little bit surprised – after all, I got hit hard before my death. I look down and I notice that I wear in a thin white dress (this freaking whiteness again) and I feel my hair on back, although I had a ponytail while dying. My dress is sleeveless and I'm barefoot but I don't feel a cold. I don't feel a hot too, I don't feel anything, what disorients me because I feel like this body wasn't mine.

Where the hell am I? What is this strange hall and where is it? Why am I here if I'm dead and after death there's only eternal darkness... at least, I think so. I'm sure about one thing – I'm dead. How do I know it? Officially, I was unconscious until death but I heard and felt everything, although I couldn't see and speak. I heard the doctors who reanimated me and a voice of one of them, "time of death – 3.45 a.m.", and just after it the darkness fell. And now, I'm suddenly here, in this strange hall and I'm wondering if this is normal. I don't know, I died for the first time...

"Welcome," I hear suddenly. I jump in a fear and I turn back hastily, trying to not show up I'm scared. In the front of me stands a young man, he's in his mid-twenties, I guess. He's tall, slim and his hair is as fair as platinum. He's kinda hot. He's wearing a white suit and shirt, but this time I'm not surprised.

"Who are you?" I ask, trying to make my voice sounding aggressively as usual when I'm disoriented and uncertain. Because who wouldn't be disoriented and uncertain on my place? "Where am I? Why all of it is happening? After all, I'm dead, right?" I ask.

"Calm down." A man's voice is calm and melodic. I frown. Who he thinks he is, St. Peter? How did he come here? How did I come here? I shift from one foot to the other, wanting an immediately answer. "I know you've got plenty of questions. Everyone who comes here is disoriented but it's normal, you don't have to worry."

"Don't I?" I mutter. I was sure I'm dead and suddenly it turns out I'm still conscious – nope, there's nothing to worry about. "Okay, let's state one thing," I say after a while, "I'm dead, am I?"

"Yes," agrees the man calmly, "you are dead."

"SO WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?" I yell. I'm angry, as usual when I'm in an uncertain situation, it's my way to defend myself – an attack. But my body doesn't react in a way I'd like to because I don't feel that specific hot on my cheeks, pounding heart and another signs of anger what makes me irritated even more. "Is it the Heaven? Are you St. Peter?" I add softer, a little bit calmer.

"No." The man seems to be impassive – like he would hear it everyday. "It's not the Heaven, Hell or even the Purgatory. We're in the Underworld. And I'm not St. Peter, my name is Rafael."

"Okay... Rafael," I mutter, "why am I here, if I'm dead? What... the Underworld... is?" I raise my hands and do an air quotes.

Suddenly I want to laugh, everything seems to be so absurd. The Underworld? Really? Such things exist only in movies and books but they don't exist in reality... I feel like in a fairytale, like Alice in Wonderland. Everything is so surrealistic and abnormal...

"Not everybody can arrive to the Underworld," explains Rafael still by calm and even bored voice. "Only the chosen ones – people who get the Second Chance. The Second Chance," he adds when I open my mouth to ask what the damn is the Second Chance, "is the possibilty to come back to Earth to say goodbye to their relatives. The Second Chance is usually received by young innocent people who died suddenly – people like you."

I laugh ironically. I am innocent, like really? But I get serious a moment after. What has he just said? That to this strange Underworld arrive people who get a chance to come back to Earth? My heart starts to pound again. I know I'm dead but it doesn't matter I'm okay with that. Rafael's words make me hopeful. Coming back to Earth? Does it mean...

"So what?" I frown, trying to be cynical, but at heart I'm excited. "I'll get resurrected? You'll bring me back to life? I'll be alive? Is it possible?" I don't intend to ask the last question but I don't control my words, excited about coming back to life. I would be alive again, I would be with my friends again... When I think about them, I feel anxious. How much time has passed since my death? Do they already know I'm dead? How did they react?

"Yes, it's possible," Rafael says, looking at his hands, "respecting some rules. We call it the Statute."

Of course. I should've realise there's some hidden catch. "What rules does this... Statute... involve?"

Rafael looks at me. His eyes are black, I can't distinguish apple of the eye and iris. They seem to be so dark that they're absorbing the light what contrast so much with omnipresent whiteness. I feel strange, anxious. "The Statute includes two rules. The first one – you'll come back to Earth for seven days," he says.

I get crestfallen. Seven days... I expected my coming back will be indefinite, not only a week, but after a moment I conclude that seven days are better than nothing. "How is it possible?" I doubt. "I'll suddenly get resecurred, when everyone thinks I'm dead and I'll leave them after seven days?"

"This is what the second Rule says – you'll be immortal. It means you'll be invisible and immaterial. To make it easier," he adds, seeing my frowned face, "let's state you'll be a ghost. Nobody will be able to see you or hear you."

"A ghost..." I repeat, thoughtful. Suddenly, this idea doesn't seem to be so exciting as in the beginning. I thought I would be mortal, like nothing happened, like I was alive. But how my loved ones would react if I suddenly got revived?

The truth is that I'm not ready to death. Not at all. I'm only seventeen, this is not a good age to dying. I have friends, popular webshow and a school to graduate... I had. Now I'm dead. Everything happened so suddenly. It's so unfair, I want to scream in fury, but – surprisingly – my body is calm, it doesn't react at my commands, like it wasn't mine.

"You can't show any negative emotions in the Underworld," Rafael says, like he was reading in my thoughts. "I understand your anger," he adds suddenly and softly what makes me surprised, "you're only seventeen and in some moment you just learn out you're dead. It can make you upset."

"Was it supposed to be a comfort?" I growl, crossing arms on chest.

"I mean," explains Rafael, "that it's normal you feel treated unfair. That's why you received the Second Chance."

"But will it change anything? It's only a week and nobody will see and hear me," I wonder. "Nothing will happen, I'll be still dead."

"You're not the only one who suffers, your friends suffer too," Rafael says and I'm crestfallen again. My friends... Do they already know? I don't know how much time has passed since my death. If they know, how did they react? "You can help them to deal with this pain."

"In seven days?" I raise my eyebrows. "I don't mean to be selfish but it's hard to take someone's death in a week... And how have I to help them if I am, as you nicely said, immaterial?"
"You can do more than you think, Sam," says Rafael mysteriously and turns around. "All you have to do is just taking the opportunity."

"Wait!" I call, there's tons of question I want to ask but he doesn't react. After a moment I feel a weakness and darkness covers me once again.