Prologue

I was nine years old when it happened. I took a rafting trip with my uncle Bobby and his three daughters on the Mississippi River. It was the first time I’d ever been on a vacation without my parents and I was excited to escape their keen, protective eyes. They’d been hesitant to let me go since I couldn’t swim very well, but somehow my uncle had convinced them to let me attend - I later learned that he promised to make me wear a lifejacket.

Uncle Bobby might’ve followed through with his promise, but even lifejackets can’t save you from Death if Death wants you badly enough.

When the current pulled me under, I panicked. Every muscle in my body seized up and I did the first thing that every child does when scared: I screamed. Water rushed into my lungs like the floods of a broken dam. As the lifejacket tightened its grasp around my shoulders and neck, squeezing what little life remained in me out, I saw them, the never-ending shadows.

I was so mesmerized by the elegant twists and turns, bends and dips, that the dense shadows danced that I began to relax. My mind let go of its fierce grip on reality and began to slip into recess. My heart returned to a normal, almost sluggish pace. The stiffness vanished from my muscles and I felt at ease with the murky underwater world around me. The panic receded into the darkest depths of my mind and a twisted sort of black joy filled me from the inside out. Only the pain in my lungs remained, but that was easy enough to ignore.

As the shadows crept closer, the thrumming of my heart grew fainter and fainter until, finally, it stopped altogether. The frosty, greedy fingers of Death quickly descended upon me, wrapping themselves around my feet, the chill seeping deep into my bones. My toes numbed and my fingers lost all feeling. Death moved swiftly over my body, drawing closer to my heart as each second ticked by. The edges of my vision flickered like the stereotypical lights of a mental asylum until the darkness engulfed it; all that was left was the stormy gray epicenter, the very middle which I held onto as tightly as possible.

Death was inches away when my uncle pulled me out of the treacherous water. He dragged me back to the beach and laid me out on the sand, quickly stripping off my lifejacket. I was only half-aware as my uncle placed his hands over the left side of my chest and began to pump frantically, for I was watching as the shadows tore at the corners of my vision, screaming in angry protest at the loss of a death.

My death.

I can’t tell you the exact words my uncle screamed at me, but they were something along the lines of, “Don’t die, Franny! Please, your mother’ll kill me if you croak!” He slammed his fist against my chest once more before covering my mouth with his lips, breathing precious air into my lungs.

As he did this, the horrific shadows managed to break through their invisible entrapment. They rushed forward with a terrible swiftness and resumed their hurried creeping. An unspeakable iciness settled over my body wherever they placed their decrepit hands. One of the dark shadows ripped a hole in my chest, exactly where my heart was, precisely where my uncle’s hands lay, and pulled apart the bones. Flexing the bulging muscles, it reached it in with a long fingered hand. There are no words that can adequately describe the pain I felt then. A earsplitting scream tore through my throat as Death wrapped its glacial fingers around my heart. For the second time in mere seconds, Death was inches away from claiming my life. However, just as the hand squeezed, the water trapped in my lungs suddenly surged up my windpipe and out of my mouth. Life had reinstated its presence in my veins.

“Cessy, honey, are you okay?” A calloused hand cupped my cheek gently. “Open your eyes if you’re okay, Ces! Open ‘em for Uncle Bobs, okay?”

When I obeyed his command and opened my eyes, I shrieked. The dense shadow of Death twisted over the space where my uncle’s face should’ve been. His eyes were two endless pits of the deepest of blacks, his mouth a grotesque slash underneath his mutilated nose. Each time he spoke, dribbles of chunky black liquid spewed from his mouth, rolled down his chin and splattered on my face. I tried to scramble away from him, thrashing my limbs and screaming at the top of my lungs.

“Whoa, Ces, chill out! It’s just me - it’s just Uncle Bobby.” There was a note of panic in his usually calm voice that roused my suspicion, but when my eyes traveled to his face, I saw the hideous face of Death instead of the pleasant visage of my uncle.

His hands moved down to my shoulders, but I twisted away, clawing at the wet sand in a vain attempt to get as far as possible from him, to escape Death. “Go away!” I screeched in a voice that was not my own. I kicked at him, my foot connecting with his nose. There was a sickening crack, but if there was any pain, my uncle hid it well. He grabbed at my feet, pulling me backward on the sand. “Leave me alone!” I commanded in that monstrous tone.

Somehow, he managed to restrain me. My chest heaved as I fought against his weight, but he kept me pinned to the ground. Reaching up with a bruised hand, he smoothed the wet hair away from my face. This time, when I met his eyes, I found that his face had returned to normal, though his nose was bleeding profusely and there was a cut above his eye. I pulled my gaze away from his face and quickly scanned the immediate area: the shadows were gone, but the coldness still remained in my limbs. Still remained deep within my heart.

“Is it over?” I croaked. My voice was hoarse from all the screaming and when I spoke, a sharp, almost stabbing pain scraped along the sides of my throat.

Bobby’s brow pulled together in confusion, his dark eyes panicked. “Is what over?”

Tears sprang to my eyes as I drew in a deep breath, my lungs burning; it felt like someone had poured a gallon of carbonic acid down my throat. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Are they gone?”

“Franny, honey, who are you talking about, babe?” He sounded as befuddled as he looked. He blinked a few times over, as though blinking would help clear his muddled mind, and then he shook his head to himself. “Your cousins are still here, sweetheart. They haven’t left yet.”

A choked sob escaped my throat and my body flinched instinctively, curling into the fetal position. Despite the fact it felt as though a thousand daggers were jabbing into my throat, I couldn’t help crying. My uncle gathered me up in his arms, cradling me close to his chest. He pressed a kiss against my forehead before calling over his shoulder to his eldest daughter, Lorraine.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you stupid girl. Get the damn cell phone and call 911!” he shouted at her, rolling his dark eyes exasperatedly. His tone was much gentler when he spoke to me. “You’re going to be just fine, Francesca. Don’t you worry. You’ll be just fine.”

He repeated this same mantra more or less while we waited for the emergency team to come. Lorraine brought the cell phone over to him after she’d placed the call and suggested that he phone my mother to let her know what‘d happened. I didn’t listen to the conversation, for I was much too distracted. My eyes flickered around the small sandbar suspiciously, resting on each of the boaters who’d come to shore to see if there was anything they could do. Of course, even after my uncle assured them he had the situation under control, they wouldn’t leave; no one could resist seeing a small child carted away on an emergency vehicle.

As Uncle Bobby spoke to my mother, he guided my head to his shoulder and I willingly rested my chin on the dip where his neck met the curve of his shoulder. I blinked owlishly to clear the salty tears from my eyes and when I opened them again, I saw it.

Death.

It was standing atop the water, its black shadow minions dancing around its sleek, bone white form, and it was pointing at me. I tried to scream, but my throat was much too swollen to allow anything above a whisper to be spoken. It reached up with a spidery pale hand and drew it across its throat. A fresh wave of tears poured down my cheeks and I sobbed into my uncle’s shoulder, but he didn’t look at me; he was too engaged in the heated discussion with my mother.

Like a powerful mountain cat, Death moved gracefully across the surface of the water. I pressed my face into Bobby’s shoulder and clung to him for dear life. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to see my mom and my dad again and tell them I was sorry for not saying goodbye when I left. To apologize for being such a brat at Target and throwing a hissy fit when I didn’t get that Gameboy. When it reached the edge of the lapping water, it stopped and tilted its head. A twisted, monstrous smile spread across Death’s face and just as I thought it was going to take the last step and claim my life, Death spoke.

“Fool me once, shame on you,” the hollow voice said in a sing-song manner. “Fool me twice, shame on me.” Death tittered girlishly before the smile slipped away from its gory lips. “But fool me thrice and you’re mine.”

Quick as a whip, Death vanished and I nestled deeper into my uncle’s comforting embrace, trying, and failing, with all my might to convince myself it was all a dream.

When I was nine, I almost died. Eight years later, it happened again.

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A/N: It might not make much sense at the moment, but if you have any questions, please feel free to send me a PM. And, of course, review!

Soundtrack: “New Moon” by Cave-In; “Mykonos” by Fleet Foxes.