It was a quiet morning. The sun rose it its usual way, the children all around fussed, begging for five more minutes, ten, fifteen, twenty... all but one child, me.
I lay there, cold, immobile and inanimate. Dead. At sixteen, my life came to a close. As I lay there, the only thing I knew and could think was Another tale Mama! I suppose she was the last person I saw before my untimely demise, but I can't quite remember anything before that first quiet, lonesome moments of my Awakening into this, whatever This may be.