Chance of a Lifetime

   Chance Evans awoke in a meadow. She wore her nightgown, its silky fabric brushing against the smooth skin due to the breeze.

   She moaned, turning and curling in on herself. Was this what death felt like? Endless days in a gorgeous meadow? That’d get boring, wouldn’t it?

   The voices were quiet for once, meaning that it was truth: Chance Evans was dead. Her struggle to live was gone. And she had never felt so free!

   Chance sat up. She looked around, surveying the meadow. A white grass that looked like wheat was in a field not far away. A willow tree swayed in the breeze. Death was beautiful. Why were people so scared?

   A soft moan fell upon Chance’s ears. She looked to the sound and saw Nicole. She was here, too? This wasn’t her own personal heaven? This didn’t seem fair. She struggled to live her entire life, and now that she was dead—now that that struggle was gone—she had to spend death with the one person who made her life a living hell?

   Nicole sat up with a scream. When she looked around, she dropped her head and started to sob. “I’m dead!” she cried. “I’m dead! I know I’m dead!”

   Chance stood up and slowly made her way to Nicole. Her movements were no longer feeble, but strong and steady. She never thought she’d be able to walk like this again.

   “I’m dead! I can’t be dead! Please, God, don’t let me be dead!” Nicole continued to cry, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “I can’t be dead. I can’t.”

   “Nicole.” As soon as Chance said her name, she deeply regretted it.

   Nicole looked up. “Chance...Evans?”

   “You died. You, died and I was there. I guess this is what happened.”

   Nicole narrowed her eyes. “YOU! YOU WERE THE GIRL THAT WAS THERE! I WOULDN’T BE HERE IF YOU HAD GONE TO GET HELP!” Nicole launched herself at Chance. “You bitch! You bitch! I HATE YOU!”

   Chance took the blows. She was used to it.

   Nicole had her head in her lap and she was sobbing uncontrollably.

   Chance sat in a branch of the willow tree, looking up at the orange sky.

   The Angel of Death stood by, watching them. They thought they were dead. They thought this was their own personal Hell.

   The Angel of Death knew which one was to make the decision. But she would watch them. Maybe the other would come through in the end.

   “The Angel of Death is near. About time you knew...”

   Chance closed her eyes. The voice was back. “The Angel of Death has chosen. Who to live? Who to survive? Who to...die?”

   A shadowy figure came into Chance’s line of sight. It intensified. It was a child.

   The Angel of Death disappeared.

   Nicole stopped sobbing for a moment. She looked up, wiping her eyes. Chance was nowhere in sight. Had she disappeared? Had she died again?

   Nicole stood, her bright red curls falling around her beautiful, ivory, heart-shaped face.

   “Chance!”

   “CHANCE!”

   “Chance.”

   Three times, she called the other girl’s name, and she didn’t answer. Was she really gone? Was Nicole truly alone?

   Nicole walked over to the willow tree, reliving the memories that made her life the living hell it was. She wished for Chance, but she was gone.

   “Chance. I’m sorry I made fun of you. I went through the same thing you went through. But I caused it. When I was four, my mom gave me her heart because mine was failing. I’m deaf in one ear because of tuberculosis when I was two. I have two phobias. My hair is falling out. I’m not perfect. And I’m sorry.”

   There was a rustling in the leaves above. Then Chance dropped in front of Nicole. “I’m so sorry, Nicole.”

   “Apologies, apologies. Great start, girls.”

   A child appeared in front of the two girls, with long brown hair and piercing green-gray eyes. “My name is Angela,” the girl said. “I am the Angel of Death.” When she spoke, her lips didn’t move. It was like her voice existed inside Chance’s head. Forever.

   Chance’s eyes grew wide.

   This girl, she thought. This is the voice inside my head.

   Nicole eyed Angela warily. “Oh, yeah? How do we know? Since when is Death named Angela? Have you seen Final Destination?”

   Angela smiled. “Nicole Wilson. Popular. Gorgeous. Well, Nicole Wilson, you must understand that Final Destination is a movie. Those who meet me either die or have no recollection of the meeting, therefore why would people know my true name?”

   “You’re practically eight,” Chance whispered. “And Death has been around since the dawn of time.”

   Angela smiled. “I stopped aging at eight. Eternal youth. A God, perhaps, if that’s what you insist.”

   “She wasn’t insisting,” Nicole growled.

   Angela turned her head slightly to face Nicole. “Nicole Wilson, you are a stubborn brat. You’ll end it up dead because of it. I highly suggest calming down. Now.”

   Even coming from an eight-year-old, Angela’s words held so much wisdom, so much power. They could have only come from someone who had to lead an agonizing line of work and seeing everything.

   Nicole was quiet.

   “I am here for a reason. You two are here for the same reason. Tonight, both of you were to die from your illnesses. But I want a little game. It’s fun in an otherwise boring life.”

   “Game?” It was Chance who spoke, her voice teeming with curiosity.

   “There are two of you. One was good throughout life,” a pointed look at Chance, “and one was bad.” This time, Angela looked over at Nicole. “So I’ve decided to spare one of you. But I don’t get the choice.”

   “What? We gonna flip a coin or something? I call heads.” Nicole began to reach into her pocket, searching for a quarter.

   “No. I’ve chosen who gets the choice of survival. I’ve chosen Chance.”

   “What?!” Nicole screamed, her face twisting in fury.

   “I’ll change my mind. If, that is, you prove to me that Chance was not the only good one here.” Angela folded her arms.

   Nicole opened her mouth, then shut it.

   “Exactly.”

   Angela turned her gaze to Chance. “So? Do you live a life free of cancer and Nicole dies? Or you die and Nicole lives, free of cancer, also?”

   Chance’s eyes widen. “N-N-Nicole has cancer?”

   “I have heart cancer. I was diagnosed three months ago.”

   Chance shook her head. “Then why did you make fun of me? If you had the same thing?”

   “Because it made me forget!” It was a shout, strewn from the beautiful mouth of Nicole Wilson. Before, Chance had thought that nothing was wrong with the girl, except her attitude, but now, Chance could see, that she was far from the truth.

   Chance closed her eyes. Then she decided.

   She spoke out loud.

   Angela nodded.