You're never the same once you've died. Not really. You hear stories of people who have claimed to have seen what really happens after you die, people who clutch desperately at the futile hope of something "Better" after you're gone. I however, actually know what really happens after you die. But really, it all depends on what happened when you were an infant. Just an innocent sleeping babe, left alone in a hospital room, because the mother wanted nothing to do with her: she was just an accident caused by a drunken One-Night-Stand. But something went wrong. That poor, insignificant little girl, nobody heard it when the heart monitor stopped beating, or when a tall and dark stranger decided to break into the room. Or when he fed her his blood. My life has been horrible since birth. I was an unwanted baby, from an unwanted pregnancy. A baby who was flatline for a few seconds. But those seconds are what enabled a Vampire to feed me his blood, or enabled him to restart my heart and condemn me to a life that the fates thought would be entertaining to watch but never cut. You sure you want to find out how I died? Go ahead, read on. Just don't be disappointed when it's over: I wasn't.
8 parts