Life After Death

Chapter 1

I didn't mean to die that day.

I was mad, though. Mad because I had missed my ride home from school, and because I was cold, and because it was two weeks before Christmas and I was very, very lonely.

I walked by the side of the empty road, which was about as winding and hilly as every other country road in southwestern Pennsylvania, and viciously kicked offending clumps of snow out of my way.

It was a rotten day. The sky was dull and the snow looked tired. And Amy Nowick, who should have been waiting after I cleaned up my studio art project, had already driven away-with my new boyfriend.

Sure, it must have been an honest mistake. And I wasn't jealous of Amy, I wasn't, even though one week ago we had both been sixteen and never been kissed.

I just wanted to get home.

That was when I heard the crying.

I stopped, looked around. It sounded like a baby-or maybe a cat. It seemed to be coming from the woods.

My first thought was Anna Jacobsen. But that was ridiculous. The little girl who'd disappeared somewhere at the end of this road had gone for over a year now.

The crying came again. It was thin and far away-as if it were coming from the depths of the woods. This time it sounded more human.

"Hello? Hey, is somebody in there?

There was no answer. I started into the dense stand of oak and hickory, trying to see between the gnarled bare trees. It looked uninviting. Scary.

Then I looked up and down the road. Nobody. Hardly surprising-not many cars passed here.

I am not going in there alone, I thought. I was exactly the opposite of the "Oh, it's such a nice day; let's go tramping through the woods" type. Not to mention exactly the opposite of the brave type.

But who else was there? And what else was there to do?

Somebody was in trouble.

I slipped my left arm through my backpack strap, settling it on the centre of my back and leaving my hands free. Then cautiously began to climb the snow-covered ridge that fell away on the other side of the woods.

"Hello?" I felt stupid shouting and not getting any answer. "Hi! Hello!"

Only the crying sound, faint but continuous, somewhere in front of me.

I began to flounder down the ridge. I didn't weigh much, but the crust on the snow was very thin and every step took my ankle deep.

Great, and I was wearing sneakers. I could feel cold seeping into my feet.

The snow wasn't so deep once I got into the woods. It was white and unbroken beneath the trees-and it gave me an eerie sense of isolation. As if I were in the wilderness.

And it was so quiet. The farther I went in, the deeper the silence became. I had to stop and not breathe to hear crying.

Bear left, I told myseld. Keep walking. There's nothing to be scared of!

But I couldn't make myself yell again.

There is something weird about this place ...

Deep we and deeper into the woods. The road was far behind me now. I crossed Fox tracks and bird scratches in the snow-no sign of anything human.

But the crying was right ahead now, and louder. I could hear it clearly.

Okay, up this big ridge. Yes, you can do it. Up, up. Never mind your feet are cold.

As I struggled over the uneven ground, I tried to think comforting thoughts.

Maybe I can write an article about it for my creative writing. I needed something to write about in that subject, anyway. And I'm guessing saving someone would definitely make people admire me more, right? People wouldn't take me for granted. Hopefully. Or is saving someone too nice for people to take me seriously?

It was an important question, since I currently had only two ambitions: 1) David Blackburn, and, 2) To be taken more seriously. It was why I joined the school newspaper club.

If only people realized how hard I tried. I was the little sister of Nathaniel Gray, the captain of the basketball team as well as all-around nice guy and senior. He was opposite of me in all aspects: attractive, smart, and popular. If I were taken seriously, maybe even popular, if only I felt good about myself, then everything else would follow. It would be so much easier to be a really wonderful person and do something for the world and make something important of my life if I just felt loved and accepted. If I weren't shy and short and immature looking.

It was bad enough to be small, slight and a red head-to look in fact, as much like an elf as anything I'd ever seen sitting on a butterfly in a children's picture book-but to have an older brother who was tall, Viking-blond, and classically handsome ... well, that just showed a certain deliberate malice in the makeup of the universe, didn't it?

I reached the top of the ridge and grabbed at a branch to keep my balance. Then, still hanging on, I let out my breath and looked around.

Nothing to see. Quiet woods wading down to a creek just below.

And nothing to hear, either. The crying had stopped.

Oh, don't do this to me!

Frustration warmed me up and chased away my fear. I yelled, "Hey-hey, are you still out there? Can you hear me? I'm coming for you!"

Silence. And then, very faintly, a sound.

Directly ahead.

Oh, my God, I thought. The creek.

The kid was in the creek, hanging on to something, getting weaker and weaker ...

I was scrambling down the other side of the ridge, slithering, the wet snow adhering to me like lumpy frosting.

Heart pounding, out of breath, I stood on the bank of the creek. Below me, at the edge, I could see fragile ice ledges reaching out like petals over the rushing water. Spray had frozen like diamond drops on overhanging grasses.

But nothing living. I frantically scanned the surface od the dark water.

"Are you there?" I shouted. "Can you hear me?"

Nothing. Rocks in the water. Branches caught against the rocks. The sound of the rushing creek.

"Where are you?"

I couldn't hear the crying anymore. The water was too loud.

Maybe the kid had gone under.

I leaned out, looking for a wet head, a shape beneath the surface. I leaned out farther.

And then-a mistake. Some subtle change of balance. Ice under my feet. My arms were windmilling, but I couldn't get my balance back ...

I was flying. Nothing solid anywhere. Too surprised to be frightened.

I hit the water with an icy shock.