I wandered into the newsagents for a bag of Skittles. Whilst pondering whether to get plain or sour, I considered the results of a war between the different colours and decided it would be a good idea for a story on YWS. I fumbled for a pen to write it down before I forgot, and scrawled a few words on my hand. Sliding my pen behind my ear, I paid for my sweets and exited. Emerging into the bright morning sun, I looked both ways along the road. Deciding it was clear, I sauntered over at a leisurely pace.
"Hey Dan!"
I raised my hand in return greeting to my friend Bob "Davey" Grange, just as a sleek silver car appeared from nowhere on my left. My head snapped round as it barrelled towards me, and the whole world seemed to slow to a crawl. I dived forward, a part of my brain noting the look of shock on the driver's face as he yanked the wheel viciously to the right. I tumbled onto the unyielding tarmac, an ear-splitting screech erupting from the tires as he stamped on the brakes. After several deep breaths to try and slow my racing heart, I sat up, a sharp stone digging into my hand. I looked at the car where it had stalled, identifying it as a Mercedes from the badge, then towards my schoolmates at the bus-stop. They all were wearing a uniform expression of shock and horror, with the exception of Tara, who just looked like she was concentrating really hard. But to be fair, Tara's quite a strange person. She thinks she can see ghosts.
All of a sudden, the car restarted and began to accelerate away. Astonished at how callous this guy was, I instinctively threw the stone at his car.
"Arsehole!" I shouted at him, releasing my fear and anger in a single explosive throw. By sheer chance, it impacted against his rear windscreen, leaving a huge crack. Immediately it went into reverse and backed towards me, causing the traffic that had just swerved around me to veer away again. I almost ran away, unwilling to enter into a confrontation, but my mind convinced me otherwise. This guy nearly killed you, then just drove away! It told me. He's in the wrong, stand up to the bastard. I folded my arms and waited, ignoring the shouts of my friends from my left. The Mercedes driver stopped a few feet away from me, then got out and paced angrily up to me. He glared for a second, then turned to check his back windscreen. 'The bastard is more concerned about his car than a person he nearly killed!' I thought.
"You nearly killed me you prick!" I shouted at him. He looked back at me, and I thought I noticed some guilt in his expression, but then he turned back to his car and ran a hand over the gigantic tear. Incensed, I strode forward and pushed him.
"Hey!" I began, but almost as if it was instinctive, he spun and swept my feet out from underneath me. As I fell towards the pavement, I caught a flash of blue beneath me. Then a colossal surge of pain spiked through my left eye and the world turned black.
I woke up feeling as if I was suspended in mid-air. Opening my eyes and looking around, I realised I was. I then noticed I was only seeing from one eye. 'Hmm', I thought, then happened to glance down. It was an exact aerial view of the High Street in my town, except for the huge crowd gathered around someone lying on the ground. With a sense of mild surprise, I realised that the person on the ground was me.
"Well", I said, mainly to myself, "This isn't how I thought my morning would turn out."
"Trust me, it's about to get a lot weirder, friend."
I spun round so fast that I almost gave myself whiplash. In front of me, similarly suspended in mid-air, was the Grim Reaper, complete with scythe and robes. The only thing out of place was the dripping syringe in his hand.
"Congratulations!" He said in a thick California accent. "You're now officially dead."
And then I woke up.
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