Romans & histoires Alex Brightman The Whole "being Dead" Thing

Light pokes in through the shutters and I stretch as a satisfying yawn rolls off my lips. A restful, satisfying sleep. Then it hit me…my conversation with dad last night. Austin (not going to call him Alpha) wants me to be his Luna. Also while he has a girlfriend?! He really has gone off his rocker. He has a mate out there somewhere. I have a mate out there somewhere. There is no way the Alphas will agree to this. My 18th birthday isn’t for another two months. Austin is 18 himself so he would know if we were mates by now and his lack of self-control I highly doubt he’d keep that a secret this long. I’d expect him to tell me the very instant and have already demanded I move in with him. Given

Kelvin disconnected me from the life-support machine, and I felt my strength ebbing away. "I can't die now, please give me a second chance," I whispered, my voice barely audible through the agony that wracked my body. Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with fate to spare my life. Kelvin's face twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with a sinister pleasure. "Goodbye, dear wife," he sneered. "See you never again." His voice was laced with disdain and satisfaction, and I knew I was staring into the face of pure evil.

Her words shook me to my core, but I quickly composed myself, saying coldly, "Alaric, I've already died once. Just pretend I'm truly dead and let us both move on." "No!" He jerked his head up, his voice tinged with desperation. "Amara, I can't! Even if you hate me, despise me—hit me, curse me, anything—but don't tell me you're really gone. I'm begging you, please come back?"

“You’re all mean.” Mello, ever the pragmatist, tried to steer things back. “Quiet down, man. Let’s just… let’s hear him out. Why are we here?” Elliot took a steadying breath, regaining his composure. “First things first. To the outside world, as of today… you are all dead.” Emma gasped. “What?” Willz looked around the sterile room. “This doesn’t look like hell. Or heaven, for that matter.” Amy couldn’t resist a dry retort. “Don’t you have a little self-confidence? Maybe you made it to the good place.”

“There was another survivor.” Jennifer froze. “I thought he died.” “So did I.” Luna’s voice had become distant. Like she was speaking to herself. “He was never officially declared dead.” Jennifer quickly pulled up archived files. Typing rapidly. Searching. Searching. Searching. Nothing. Every record ended the same way. STATUS: DECEASED Alexander frowned. “If he’s alive…” “He erased himself.” Jennifer finished. Luna nodded. Only someone trained through Project Phantom could erase every trace of that completely.

Only the mess and my battered body remained. As I curled on the icy floor, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Sofia. "Ella, see that? Vincenzo believes me in the end. So what if I lost the baby? I still have him and the entire Camorra family behind me. And you? You're nothing but a cast-off no one wants. A bitch like you deserves to die!" I picked up the phone and typed three words. "As you wish." The moment it was sent, I deleted all our chats and that number I'd had for eight years.

Afterward, Samantha received a phone call from the police. She went to the morgue to collect the bodies of Katrina and Madison. Arnold had come along. Arnold was not only the family’s old neighbor but also my childhood friend. He had been my best man during my wedding and had helped Katrina and Madison a lot after my death. He patted Samantha on the shoulder and comforted her. “Don’t be too sad, Mrs. Harding. After Aiden passed, Katrina developed severe depression. It’s been hard for her these past three years. Death could be a form of release for her.

I heard the clicking of camera shutters, but no one called the ambulance. My blood drained dry. My body became cold. Finally, Yvette Skye was no more. I died all alone at the corner of the street. No one cared. My corpse was not a pretty sight. My eyes were wide, unseeing, and there was a large hole in my stomach. My legs were twisted together. One of my arms was flung by the side of the road. My legs were useless now. I was ugly. No wonder the little girl cried. Floating in the air, I stared at my mutilated corpse.

I was told to stand straight, to smile, to look the part of a proud Alpha-to-be. But all I could think about was dying. Not in the melodramatic sense. Not the kind of dying where you hope someone will come to save you at the last moment. I mean the quiet kind. The kind where you know you won’t make it out of the night alive, and there’s nothing you can do but wait. Because if Selena did know what I knew… then I was already dead.

Dead and gone to never return. “And yet I'm right here with you” You are a lie. “So how can I speak to you?” I have a very powerful imagination and a very damaged mind. He laughs. Goddess, I've missed his laugh. I'll be with you all soon. “And what if we want you to live?” You don't get to decide that. The dead can't speak or have opinions. “And yet I offer mine. Live Amelia” I refuse. You don't know how hard it is here.