A Friend in Need

'What is that smell? Taste? Why do I feel like I'm lying in a pool of warm water?.....That's right this is where I was killed.' A street light was blinking in the distance. There was a sound of people walking by, cars driving down the road, but no sound of panic of someone dying in the street. 'That's right....I've died before.' I laid there in a pool of my own blood, watching as the stars passed over me and night would turn to day and back to night. It was as though time was passing by like a leaf in the wind. What felt like days pass most have been years. The streets, buildings, people all were changing, but yet I still laid here and no one ever noticed. My eyes began to get heavy and I soon drifted off into sweet slumber.

There was a buzzing noise, and it kept buzzing louder and louder. I opened my eyes, and looked up at the ceiling. I was in a normal sized bedroom, with brown walls, a busted television, and a book case with two books on it. The buzzing noise was an alarm clock, which I soon shut off. I slowly sat up in bed.

"I died yesterday, didn't I?"

I got up and walked to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror, but I always see the same thing. Black messy hair which was past due for a good hair cut. Blue eyes that could make sapphires jealous. There was dark lines under my eyes, which I guess was from lack of sleep. I had a small scare on my chest about where my heart would be. Creepy I felt like I knew what happened, but I couldn't remember. I had to be about six foot tall, and I was in good shape. I looked into the mirror for a few minutes longer.

"Who am I?"

I went back into the room and put on what I hoped was clean clothes. I sat down on the bed and put on a pair of tennis shoes that were slid just under the bed. Strange thing was they had mud on the bottom of them, but there were no trace of mud in the room. I walked over to the book case and looked at the two books. One had an white outer binding on it, while the other was jet black. I picked up the black one and opened to the first page.

'The life and times of a Friend' was all that was written.

I put it down and picked up the other one and flipped to the first page.

'Death's embrace with an old friend.'

Strange again why would I only have these two books? Who am I?

I grabbed a coat and began heading down some stairs that would lead outside.