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Prologue1,638 words
Chapter 13,073 words

Prologue

Second Chance

Prologue

The sun was shining that day. The temperature wasn't too bad either. Not too cold that you would need a hoodie to be comfortable, but not hot enough that going outside seemed like a bad idea. To anybody else, it was just another beautiful mid-June day.

But to you, it was anything but ordinary.

For it was the day you gave up. The day you said goodbye to your hopes, your dreams, and those around you. The day you left this life, and entered the next one.

So, as you sat on the roof of a 15-story office building you passed each day on your way to school, you half-wonder what happened in your soon-to-be tragically short life that made you want to end it all. The answer, unsurprisingly, came easy enough.

You weren't always suicidal. In fact, your life was pretty awesome up until about six months ago. You had a loving family, a small amount of friends, and you did decent in school, not because you were stupid or anything, you just found what you learned to be irrelevant to pretty much everyone except those who taught it. Unfortunately, life has a way of taking things away from you almost as fast as it give them.

You're not sure when exactly life turned from good to total shitstorm, but you're pretty sure the first major event to kick things off was the death of your father about six months back due to some drunk truck driver careening into the other lane, driving himself, and your father, into the river 60 feet below. After that, things pretty much went straight to hell. Your mom turned to alcoholism to cope with the pain, and soon after turned abusive. Your girlfriend left you after you entered a phase of serious depression, and then to top it all off, your friends left you one-by-one to be friends with less mopey people.

But you didn't care anymore. You didn't care about them, your girlfriend, or even your mom, because there was no point. What you were about to do was set in stone the second your dad was lowered into his grave.

You stand up, leaving the bottle of soda you had on the ground. You didn't need it where you were going.

“Alright...” you say to yourself. “I guess... this is it then.” You exhale. All the pain, all of the suffering you had been feeling for the past few months was finally going to the end. And you know what? You were happy. For the first time in a very long time, you were genuinely happy, because you were going to be seeing your dad soon. The only person you wanted to see now.

You stand up; a sudden breeze makes your T-shirt whip at your sides. You casually walk over to the edge of the building, almost as if you were walking to a friend's house. Once you reach the edge of the building, you turn around. Your back is now facing the open air, your arms akimbo. You take one last look at the concrete world that wass your home, and close your eyes. You lean back, entering the void beyond.

Now, some people think when you are falling through the air, the wind whistling in your ears, your mind goes into overdrive. If you're cliché enough, perhaps your short life might have been flashing before your closed eyes. But in your case, however, the trip down was surprisingly peaceful. The only thing going through your head was a snippet of lyrics from that song “Toes” by Zach Brown Band, which your father would sing to you on his guitar when you were feeling down.

Concrete and cars are their own prison bars
Like this life I'm living in
But the plane brought me farther, I'm surrounded by water
And I'm not going back again.

At this thought, a smile creeps across your face for the first time since the funeral. You were going home. Not a physical home, per se, but your dad was home enough. And as you enjoy the last few fleeting moments of free-fall, your mind goes blank.

Until something startles you. A loud boom, colors flashing before your eyelids and a shock wave so powerful it makes you shake in air a bit. Your eyes open reflexively, and you almost pass out from the sight. You were expecting to be a few feet from the rapidly-approaching asphalt, the building and trees surrounding it being almost dangerously close. But, for some unfathomable reason, you aren't even close to any buildings.

The first thing that hits your mind is the altitude you're at. Instead of being a few dozen feet from the ground, you're several hundred. You're so high up you can see for miles around. A large grove of trees, stretching out farther than you could ever hope to see, a large forest, mountains, a river, and finally what looks like a small town about a mile from where you suspected you were going to hit.

Looking back on it, you find the whole experience sort of funny. Funny that all of the suicidal thoughts, all of the sadness, rage, heartbreak, and relief that had been on your mind for the longest time suddenly wiped away, replace with a primal urge to get out of here. Your brain shrinks to the size of a peanut, and you start screaming, flailing your arms in what you think is some desperate attempt to fly. The ground is getting REALLY close, you think, as everything comes into progressively sharper detail. You can see a red farmhouse now, complete with a purple roof and wooden fence surrounding it. You can see several oddly-shaped houses in that little town you saw earlier, and one of them even looks like it's built into a tree, of all things. All the while you are thinking this; however, you are still screaming and flailing your arms like a maniac. That is, until...

“Hang on, buddy! I've got you!” You hear something behind you yell. You feel your arms be caught by something soft, and your body goes from a fall to a fast glide. This mysterious person helping you sounds female, with a slight tomboyish accent (if that makes any sense) to her voice.

You hear her groaning in effort, but despite her best efforts, you continue to plummet.

“You're too heavy! I-I can't pull up! We're gonna crash!” She yells in frustration. Oh fuck, you think. This is NOT going to end well for either of us.

Your descent, while still isn't as rapid as before, is still alarmingly fast. The only thing you can do before your impact is to close your eyes and pray to whatever god is relevant in this strange new place to take pity on you.

SLAM. You hit something hard. The last things you remember before darkness consumes you are several loud snaps, a girl screaming, and yourself being flung like a rag doll in what you can guess is sideways.

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Your whole world is pain. Everything hurts, and you just feel like laying in the spot you're currently at until the end of time.

Wake up. A small voice in your head says to you. Get the hell up, or you are going to die out here!

Mmmf, please go away and let me sleep, you mutter inwardly. This spot wouldn't be too bad for a final resting place, anyway.

You selfish pig! The voice yells in indignation. You may not care if you die, but that girl risked her life to save yours, without even receiving a “thank you” in return! The least you can do is man up and return the favor.

Ouch. That one stung. But, like it or not, that tiny voice in your head was right. You need to get help, and then you can sleep. Just lay down and sleep forever.

You slowly but surely get to your knees, gritting your teeth as agony rips through your injured body. You open your eyes to see what kind of damage you sustained, and cry out in surprise and pain at what you see. Your left arm is broken badly (at least 3 places badly). Your other arm is functional, but cut up so badly it looks like more blood than skin is covering its surface. Despite this, most likely aided by the massive adrenaline high you are experiencing at the moment, you manage to stand up. Immediately your vision tunnels and you throw up, but what comes out is dark red, borderline black. You manage to stay standing despite this ordeal, and you start walking, not even looking back at your unknown savior.

After a few steps you stumble, your legs tying each other up. One foot in front of the other, you remind yourself. You've still got a life to save.

You shamble through fields, an apple grove, and finally over several bridges before you see the outskirts of the town before you. By now it is dark, the moon about a quarter through the sky. It looks a lot bigger than in your town, but you're too exhausted to care. Finally, you see something move. A horse appears, with purple curly hair, flawless white fur, and a horn on its head. In your semi-functional state, you guess a horse is better than nothing, and stumble towards it. It sees you, and a horrified expression forms on its mouth, its brilliant blue eyes open wide.

“He-help...... someone hurt... a mile that way... please...” you utter, your vision going blurry. Your legs immediately give out, and you unceremoniously fall to the ground, vision fading. An elegant-sounding voice yelling for help are the last things you hear before you black out for the second time that day.

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