I realize I have Believer up and going still, and I have huge plans for that I'm STILL fleshing out, but this idea just wouldn't leave me alone. I've been dreaming about it, thinking about it, and just I need to write it, lest it drive me insane. May or may not have some basing on the song Cups by Anna Kendrick. Just give this a chance, or don't, also vote in the poll for WHO you'd like the romantic interest to be, if there even will be any.

X

Maybe the irony of the situation shouldn't have been lost on me. Maybe I shouldn't have been so brash and demanding. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

Blood spilling down the front of me, staining my white blouse, the hole was caused by the goddamn gun. I mean, he got the right side of me, so my heart was fine, I think? Not that it mattered, with how I felt, I was pretty sure the shot was lethal.

I couldn't really tell, seeing the blood drip down the front of me was foreign. Almost like watching a movie. The numbness that spread through me was odd and the fact that if I looked down at the right angle, I could practically see through the shotgun blast.

My lungs felt empty and I tried my best to inhale, but the blood just kept going and I was looking ahead like maybe some type of light would show up and I'd be lifted off to Heaven, Hell, the next life? Perhaps I would end up reborn.

I guess I should have seen this coming, really.

My life was ending and somehow I found myself laughing.

I opened my mouth to maybe form words, but cracks and clicks were the only thing to leave my mouth. Utterances of breath were all that spilled out of my mouth as I felt an odd coppery taste within my lips.

Blood was spilling from my mouth now, but it felt more like mucous being hacked up into my throat and seamlessly spilling onto the front of me.

I honestly thought I might go for stupid reasons.

Falling down a lot of stairs and breaking my neck.

Falling on a knife.

Crashing into the obvious tree in front of me and realizing it too late.

Drinking too much alcohol in a drinking contest.

Not that people dying that way were stupid, but in all of those situations, I'd have been killed by my own doing. Not someone else's.

Mine and mine alone and yet.

I was standing with a gaping wound on my right side and slowly I could feel the beats of my heart grow slow and my breath wasn't what it use to be.

It was all strangely numb. There was no pain. Everything was silent, too, yet I could see everything in front of me.

His angry face, his tight grip on the shot gun.

Behind him stands them, and they are all shocked.

They never expected this from me. I was same age as them, pretty much. Barely seventeen and here I was, dying in front of them.

Despite my dying, I still found my ability to stand unhindered.

"D'sthis satis...fy you?" I was choking on my own words as they left my mouth before I sputtered as more blood dripped down my chin.

His angry expression became one of horror, realization, and then sheer agony.

"D'd I make… youhappy, finally, dad?" I smirked as I sputtered again and made one bet on stepping forward slowly.

I watched as my dad's rust colored skin paled, his green eyes wide from fright and his brown hair disheveled. Mostly there was that shock and fright on his face.

I was comforted by that shock and that fright somehow.

Maybe my own dad had learned humanity?

What a time to be learning it, right as his own daughter was dying. Maybe he'd take the shotgun and he'd stick the barrels in his mouth and pull the trigger, ending his existence as he ended mine.

Shit, I was supposed to be thinking Heavenly thoughts. Praying for forgiveness.

Could I be forgiven?

I'm sure I could be forgiven. Maybe if I asked for it.

I stepped forward again and I felt myself stumble as he let out an agonized scream. He turned his shotgun on himself and before they could stop him, he shot himself in the head, through the mouth.

I let out a breathy laugh and reached for the hole in my chest, my fingers tracing against something gooey. I pulled my tanned fingers from the wound and saw red.

Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised by the color of my blood, but here I was, seeing it.

God forgive me now. I might not have been an astute religious person, but for once, see pity upon me and forgive me for everything I've ever done.

I hate to say it, but I don't want to die.

I sputtered again and my vision blurred as they remained shocked in fear. One trembled and stepped forward and I finally fell.

I could hear faint screams, and the loudest I could hear was Alice.

I'm so sorry guys. Please forgive me. God forgive me.

The pain seemed to briefly reappear before that light had shown up.

I was dying, and I didn't want to.

I went towards that light and I was overwhelmed with brightness.

This wasn't even the very beginning of my story, but it's where I need to start.

This is the story of how I lived, died, and by all the odds in the world, I came back again.

I'm Morgan Dree, I'm a friend of the Cullens, and I've just been shot by my father.