Living Past Death.
Prologue.
I looked around. I was in a plain white building. There was no colour, just white. There were hundreds of people. I saw babies and Toddlers being taken somewhere. I saw elderly people being directed to one end of the building. Everyone else was directed to the other side.
I’m not supposed to be here. I don’t know where I am or how I ended up here, but I know I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be dead. Not breathing, not speaking, not thinking....
Someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. In front of me was an old man, he had grey hair and brown, beady eyes. He looked around 70.
“Get in line, little girl” He growled. Little girl? I’m 15!
“What? What’s going on? Why am I here? I’m supposed to be dead!” I questioned. Now I’ll admit telling someone you’re dead is a one way ticket to a mental asylum, but he didn’t seem to care.
“You are dead, now get in line” He told me before pushing me towards the line.
A/N-Did you enjoy? Please tell me if I should continue. Tell me what you think. I'll notify if you ask. So um yeah Thanks.
-Beth :P