Playing God

Prologue

My body was sprawled haphazardly across the ground like a doll thrown from a toy box. Except, you know, I'm not a doll and I was thrown from a car and not some kids' treasure chest. The man who T-boned the absolute shit out of my moms mini van stumbled out, a couple beers past his limit. Mom launched herself out of the car, kind of like me except intentionally. Tears streamed down her face in earnest, mixing with the blood from her busted lip.

The man took one look at my body, and promptly ditched. Jackass. I took off after him, leaving my mother and my... myself behind. As I ran, my feet lacked the slapping noises of hitting the pavement. Once I had caught up to guy, which frankly was not very hard considering he was so completely and utterly intoxicated, I grabbed for his shirt muttering a blue string underneath my breath. My fingers grazed him.

Wait- scratch that.

My fingers didn't only graze him, they went directly through his body as if my fingers weren't corporeal. At the moment that hadn't really mattered, I'm training to be a cop like Mom and one of the first rules is to never let a"bad guy" get away. I reached for him again, stepping forward to do so. The second that my foot had touched black top I was catapulted back to my mother and my body. I attempted to run after the guy a second time, but I got the same results.

Landing flat out on my ass, I paused to to think things out. I'm a generally hard headed person, but eventually I will use my brain if I'm knocked around enough. I back tracked, thinking of moments that felt like hours ago but was probably only a few minutes. Me and Mom left the station, me and Mom made fun of Officer Mitchels tie while driving home, me and Mom going through a busy green light, an old red truck colliding into our van halfway across the intersection, me flying through the windshield, and finally blackness that turned into this.

I finally drew the pieces together when I took another good look at my other self lying broken on the ground. That was when it hit me like a truck (the irony). "Good God I'm dead."

Behind me someone drawled, "Actually it be 'Good Gods', the Silent Realm went with a Democracy a couple millennia back so it be a plural amount of gods."

I spun around to see a boy holding a scythe.

Good Gods I'm dead.