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— Hey, asshole! — Charlie, the school bully, was as cheerful as ever, strolling along with a bunch of the same idiot friends, about to light up a smoke when he spotted Martin Banner — that same eternally hunched-over guy who always stuck to the walls like glue and looked like he was apologizing just for existing.
— Look who it is — our little professor snot-face! — Charlie drawled with a smirk, winking at Jason and Trevor. They were already giggling on autopilot, like dumb puppies, savoring the moment before their usual little humiliation ritual kicked off.
Martin flinched, clutching a thick notebook to his chest — stuffed full of formulas, graphs, and probably a million other smart-ass words nobody gave a shit about. He tried to speed up, but Charlie, tall, muscular, with perpetually messy blond hair, had already crossed the street diagonally, blocking his path.
— Where you off to, genius? Another extra class on "How to Stay a Virgin Till Retirement"?
— I need to go, — Martin mumbled, but there was something shaky in his voice, almost pleading — which only added fuel to the fire, of course.
— Go on then! Just don’t fall under a car — wouldn’t wanna scrape your brains off the asphalt. God forbid someone steps in it.
And then...
A sharp screech of brakes, and right after — a loud, sudden thud. A crack, like time itself just shattered for a second, like glass.
Charlie didn’t even have time to react. Just — headlights. Just — the blare of a horn. Just — his body flying back like a ragdoll slammed onto the pavement. And then silence.
He didn’t feel pain. Didn’t feel anything. No sounds, no wind, no ground beneath him. Everything just... froze. And suddenly...
— What... the hell?! Where the fuck am I?! — he could speak, but he couldn’t feel his body — like every single sense just shut off, like all that was left was his mind and this all-consuming darkness.
— You died, Charlie. — The voice came from nowhere. Neither male nor female. It just was. No emotion, no irritation, no scare tactics. Like someone politely telling you the bus left and there’s no point waiting for the next one.
— What?! No, no, you’re kidding. Hey! I didn’t... This can’t be! I... — he tried to move, but there was nothing to move — only his consciousness, or rather, his soul, shapeless, bodiless.
— You died in a collision with a car. Instantly. No pain. Admit it — in a way, you got lucky.
— Lucky?! I... I’m supposed to be alive! I can’t just... vanish like that! I’ve still got my whole life ahead of me! Plans, friends, dates! — he suddenly realized how pathetic he sounded, how his voice was trembling — just like that Martin guy he was mocking moments ago. And for some reason, that feeling cut deep, leaving a bitter aftertaste.
Silence. Then the voice again:
— Do you want to go back?
— Of course! Of course I do!
— But then you’ll have to...
— I don’t care! I’ll go to church, I’ll believe in God, I’ll be good! I... I’ll do anything! You hear me?! ANYTHING! Just send me back!
— Anything, huh? — and now, for the first time, there was something... ironic in the voice. — Then so be it....