Great, huh? *sigh* Well, I guess I've wasted enough of your time on this, so please read, and COMMENT!!! I'll return the favor. 
******Oh,and also, I didn't know what to rate this. I thought 12+ would be good enough, but put 16+ just in case. Please tell me what you'd suggest, although it might change throughout the story.***
The end. A weird way to begin a story, isn’t it? “The end.” Hmm…now that I think about it, it’s almost a little ironic. An oxymoron, if you want to get into that English crud. But that’s how this story begins--the end. And in a strange way, the beginning. A new beginning; another chapter. No, a new book entirely.
Whatever. You’ve probably already noticed that I have a habit of lingering on stupid topics; and you probably don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you? Ha. Shows how great I am at this story-telling shit. Well, I guess it would be best to start by telling you that I’m dead. That seems an important detail to most, so I figure I might as well get it out of the way. It’s also important for understanding my story. So…bear with me, and I’ll explain.
Like I said before, this was the end. The end of me. Well, so I thought. Death is strange like that, isn’t it? And people? People and death are two things that constantly intertwine, but never with reason or understanding. We wander through life pretending we know what we’re doing, when really we’re in total darkness. It’s like a tunnel…we’re all walking blindly alongside each other, feeling totally alone and afraid. But we don’t admit that. After all, who wants to admit that they’re scared of the dark? And no one dares to think about what’s at the end of the tunnel. Wanna know why? Because no one knows quite what to expect. And they’re afraid. They may not admit it, but oh, they’re afraid. Terrified. Once reaching the end of this tunnel, what happens? Is there even an end at all? Until you're there, this is the most mind-boggling, heavy-handed, and feared question by every mortal human being on this god-damned earth. What happens after life?
Let me start by saying that you might want to put this down right now. Yep, that’s right, I’m actually recommending that you stop reading my story. Death changes people, you know? I mean, I worked so hard to sell my stories when I was alive and now...? Oh well. Consider yourself warned.
Well, if you’re still reading, I guess that’s your choice. With that, I suppose I should start my story. So, where was I...?…oh, right. The end.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I was lying on the sidewalk, a thousand thoughts buzzing through my head. The sound of sirens wailing cut in and out of my subconscious mind. I couldn’t feel the ground benath me--or, at least, my mind couldn’t comprehend that it was there (was it?). And in any case, I wouldn’t let myself comprehend it. I wouldn’t allow myself to comprehend the pain. The icy rain pattered down like cold daggers on my skin, hitting the pavement and joining the blood to form a swirling pool around me. Ugh. I felt queasy looking at it. So much blood, and the smell! It was more blood than I’d ever seen before.
Growing up in Manhattan on the bad side of town had toughened me up. My mom had been sixteen when I was born, young, weak, unable, and she hadn't survived my birth. Because of that my dad had had an unwavering hatred of me, no matter how hard I tried to change this. I was beaten, broken, and shaken, inside and out. I knew what it was like to hurt. This wasn’t pain. Not really. If anything, I felt as though God was finally showing some sign of mercy. Finally, I could just watch time slip away, watch it leave me behind…
I could only manage to understand a few of the things going on around me, most things drowned out by a strange ringing in my ears. I could hear voices--“who is he?”, “what happened?”, “oh my God!”-- I could feel the weight of a thousand stares. It already felt like my funeral. I couldn’t move, and it took me a while to realize that I was no longer on the wet sidewalk, instead strapped down to a board. I was being carted off into an ambulance.
Oh. Then I could tell. The vehicle's lights were almost painful in a way. I wanted them off. I slammed my eyes shut. I could hear persistent voices, commanding me to “stay awake” and “hold on.” Hell with it. I was tired of “holding on.” I was sick of wasting time. I didn’t care. I closed my eyes, listening to the shuddering, uneven beats of my faint heartbeat.
I didn’t hear another. Then, I was swept into a pool of darkness.
I didn’t wake up.
