My Second Death, My Second Chance
img img My Second Death, My Second Chance img Chapter 1
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Chapter 6 img
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Chapter 1

The first time, I died because I tried to be a hero.

It was after graduation. Brad Thompson, "The King," threw a massive party at his parents' lake house.

"End of the World Bash," he called it.

Rumors flew around school. "Special punch." Brad' s usual predatory behavior, amplified.

I tried to stop them. Tiffany, my girlfriend. Sarah, my childhood friend.

"Don't go," I begged.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous, Alex. Scared of a little fun."

Sarah, who I thought was my best friend, just looked away. She always had a thing for Brad, a quiet, intense worship that I never understood.

They went. Everyone went.

I stayed home, sick with worry.

Later, I heard the sirens.

The party got raided. Underage drinking, drugs, public indecency. College plans, futures, all down the drain for many.

Years passed. Brad and Tiffany got out of whatever probation they had, and they actually got married. It was a joke.

Sarah never recovered. She got into trouble too, that night. She blamed me.

She said I sabotaged her destiny with Brad. By trying to stop her from going to that stupid party.

One rainy Tuesday, she found me.

She had a knife.

"You ruined everything," she whispered, her eyes wide and empty.

Then, darkness.

That was my first life.

A stupid, pointless end.

All because I tried to do the right thing.

And because Sarah, my childhood friend, loved Brad Thompson more than anything, even sanity.

She was obsessed. Pathologically.

Brad barely knew she existed, except maybe as another girl he could manipulate if he needed to.

Tiffany, well, Tiffany just wanted to be popular. Brad was the ticket. I was the safe bet, the stepping stone.

I was fond of her, genuinely. I was an idiot.

The lake house party. That was the nexus of it all.

The point where everything went wrong for everyone.

Except, in that first life, I wasn't even there for the worst of it.

I just paid the ultimate price later.

For trying to prevent it.

The irony wasn't lost on me, even as the blood pooled around me on the sidewalk.

            
            

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