Disclaimer: Characters are created by Meg Cabot unless stated otherwise.
It was cold. Is this how it feels like to be dead? Cold, distressed, and alone?
I tried to stand up, holding my weight with my arm, but a sting shot through my veins. I winced in pain. I looked at my wrist. It was bleeding. I remembered. I had cut myself and died. I never thought I'd stoop to that level. Where I would cut myself and risk everything just because of…of something horrible that happened. But the pain was unbearable. I couldn't take it anymore.
Punishing me was the only thing that made me feel better. About everything that I have done in the past, the agony I've been through. I was depressed. I was lonely. I was defenseless. I was a pity. What was done is done. There's no turning back. I gave it all up because I felt that there was nothing in this world worth living for. Sure there was my family, but it wasn't them that caused me my actions. It was him…my relationship with him.
I stood up and pried my eyes open. Just when I thought I have gone up to heaven, I end up in Shadowland. Thanks a lot, Father D. You know, instead of complaining to me about my mediator techniques, you could have told me that we mediators end up in Shadowland also, when we die, really, Father, thanks. I appreciate it.
I looked around the hallway. The same doors I've seen numerous times. Nothing changed; it was all the same as it was before, where all the ghosts I have shifted in the past ends up, opening one of the wooden doors. Even the same temperature of fog, as always, licking my feet. The carpeted hall way that seemed so endless, yet there is a light at the very end, another world existing besides our own and Shadowland.
Panic was taking over me, the fog wrapping itself around me.
I tried to run, run for the light, but it felt as if my feet were glued together.
I glanced at my wrist again. It was still bleeding. It was a deep cut. It looked like my hand was going to fall of soon.
And right then, out of nowhere, the fog started to wrap itself around my wrist, like a tourniquet.
It soothed the pain, but it still wasn't enough. I needed to do more. Heck, my skin was itching for more.
I searched the hallway for something sharp. There was none.
I started scratching myself. But it still didn't hurt enough.
I felt movement behind me. My body stiffened, shoulders tensed, head looking straight ahead, not turning.
Footsteps echoed.
Turning around slowly, I see a figure running towards me.
Suddenly, alarm bells in my head started ringing. My instincts told me to run. So I did. The figure was too fast for me. It was catching up. I was out of breath. I looked behind me and saw that the figure was getting closer.
I had no other choice. I stopped. I reached for the handle and opened one of the doors in Shadowland. Blue light shone through, and I was pulled inside by an invisible force.
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