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August 19, 2018

Today, is a very special day for Lance. It started off as any average day: going to class, hanging out with the besties, Skyped his family, and ended the day with a coffee run to Starbucks.

Problem? All the Starbucks in the town were closed, so he had to drive all the way to the next town to get his S'mores Frappuccino. It was an emergency of the AGES now! I have like 3 essays and 2 extra credit papers due this coming week! I needed the frap-!

“MM- CAH! COU!”

The teen let out a wrenching cough that made his sides ache. He wheezes slightly to the pain: right, relax, stay calm.

It was 11:10 PM when I left the Garrison. Right before “Survivor” changed, it was 11:23 PM, huh, not so long ago when I went to get the frap - “KAH! COH!”

Another wrenching cough stopped Lance’s train of thought. Go figure.

A sudden chilly breeze swept by, Lance shivering slightly to the sudden contact. It was in the middle of August, why the hell is it cold!?! Anything below 70 is cold for him though.

Lance shivered a bit more and groans softly as he looked at the night sky that peeked through the heavy branches of the trees. He laid on the soft grass, bit moist from the morning showers. He stared at the scenery above, the stars shining brightly as they twinkled in the dark purple sky, the moon accompanying them, emitting a soft glow that illuminated him tonight. Another harsh cough erupted from the teen’s throat as he put a hand over his mouth to sooth it’s impact, hoping it'll subdue the wrenching pain he experienced after every fit. He sighs as he lays still again, his hand feeling a bit wet. Oh no. He lifts his hand to see - blood. Shit.

So much for a midnight coffee run.

Lance was driving soundly when he abruptly lost control of his car and fell off the edge of the cliff he was riding from.

How fucking cliche.

The car tumbled down the cliff and, 'miraculously', his seat belt came off making him flail around his car before he was slammed out through the windshield. He rolled down the hill, getting multiple sets of cuts, wounds, bruises and broken glass embedded in him, leaving him in the position he was in now: his body laying flat on the dirt ground with severe injuries and a possible a broken bone or two at the near reach of midnight. His phone was somewhere in the area, most likely in the now broken car. No one knows where he is and don’t even know he left. “I should’ve asked if anyone needed a coffee, they would at least know I am missing and find me … here … under a cliff … near, near- EECOUGH!”

Today, became a very special day for Lance, because today, may be the day he -

Dies.

Another fit of coughs seized up, making him curl up slightly and turn to his side as he tried to throw up as much of the blood as needed. His windpipes are clogging up by the amount of blood seeping in due to internal bleeding. No. He has to keep oxygen rolling - he - “COUgh!”

Lance starts to pant lightly, trying to calm himself down to ensure some oxygen enters his body. He tries to not put any pressure on his arm as he lays on the side, wincing as some of the glass shards sunk in his shoulder some more. “So much for perfect skin” he says with a soft chuckle before he coughs again.

No, he’s not ready to die he can’t die! Focus Lance, you are not going to die. Not right now, not like this -

“Ah!!” Lance screeches annoyingly. A sudden move made the glass push deeper into his arm, feeling some blood trickling out from the wound as the opening became bigger. Lance groaned slightly as he forfeits all ideas of comfort. Not like he’ll need them, he may just - no stop don’t.

You can’t die here, you shouldn’t! You’re Lance McClain! Space cadet and the best pilot in the Garrison! People know you as the Tai-

He wrenched and heaved before he spat out some blood. Shit. No. The Cuban starts to laugh a bit hysterically before another cough seizes up, bringing out more blood. No, fuck.

I can’t die I’m not ready to die! No! Fuck. I have my family waiting for me back at Cuba! I can’t leave my nieces and nephews, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. My brothers and sister, mi papa, mi mama.

“Mama”

Her soft smile, her bold presence, the fierce determination and caring soul.

Lance turns and lays flat on his back again, facing the night sky. Mama, I’m sorry I failed you.

A sudden streak of warmth was felt on his face as tears started streaming down his cheeks. He failed her. He failed them.

I failed my family. I am going to die here, and leave my family, my friends, everyone and everything. What will they say? Lance McClain, the cause of death? A midnight coffee. My mom would surely raise me from the dead just to kill me all over again.

His body wrenched up a bit and his throat tightened - a hiccup came up. The tears started to become continuous as they picked up a steady stream.

No. No I can’t die, I can’t die, I can’t die!! My family, my friends, my dreams and goals, I can’t leave them behind! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! I never want to die! I have so much to live for, so many people to care for!

I can’t leave them, I can’t leave!

Lance’s once silent tears gained a voice as he started to sob. He let his tears flow and cries out as the sobs start to grow, but kept his eyes up at the sky. No. Dios no. Please … please …

The teen outstretches his hand to the sky, reaching out.

“God … Dios .. si me escuchas … por favor … NO ME DEJES MORIR! NO QUIERO MORIR, YO QUIERO VIVIR! I WANT TO LIVE! PLEASE!!” 

Lance screams up to the sky as he continues to cry, his arm stretching up above, hoping, pleading his prayers are heard.

Please.

He then started to cough again, he turned to his side to let the blood out of his throat, no use, he is going to die here. No, he must try!

“PLEASE! PLEASE! DON’T LET ME DIE! DON’T LET ME DIE!! DON’T LET MY SOUL BE TAKEN PLEASE!”

Pain embraced his arm as he let it drop, trying to swallow a cough back so he can plead, so he can ask to stay alive. He must ask! He must plead! He doesn’t know why, but he must!

“PLEASE! POR FAVOR!”

His vision started to get blurry as dark spots appeared. No.

“Please!”

He started to feel lightheaded, the blood continued to flow from his wounds, his tears soon mixing in as they provided little bits of warmth. No.

“PLEASE! LISTEN TO ME!!”

He started to lose the feeling of his body. No.

“DON’T! POR FAVOR!”

His eyes started to grow heavy. NO.

His nose was infested with the smell of copper, grass and bark. NO!

Blood continued to flow. NO!

“I can’t die!!”

Then, memories started to flash before him, all the happy memories he had as his eyes grew heavy. When his eyes closed, he can see his many siblings and the van they travelled in, late night rides to anywhere.

He snaps his eyes open, no!

“Please ..”

His eyes close again. He feels the warmth surrounding his body with a gentle breeze keeping him from burning. His feet are touching soft and smooth surface, his ears hear the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. He opens his eyes. The beach, his home. His nose can smell the salt of the ocean with a distinct aroma of garlic melded. Lance stared at the scenery before him, the light blue sky, the aquatic blue merging in with the darker blue water the farther it leaves shore. The white soft yet cool sand underneath his feet. He stood there, feeling peaceful and calm as - someone came up to him and stood next to him. The person was shorter than him, about half his height. The two stood side by side as they listened to the roars of the waves as the cries of the seagulls. Some time passes before two arms encircle him as they engulf him in an embrace.

Varadero Beach, garlic knots, his mother’s hugs.

Lance opens his eyes again to stare at the dark sky once more. It wasn’t a dream, this is not a nightmare. This is real!

His vision started to go blurry as a few black dots started to grow bigger. No.

“Nos vas a ser felices mi cielo”

Mami.

“Eres el orgullo de esta familia hijo”

Papi.

“Break a leg little bro”

Hermano Marco.

“Don’t get girls embarazadas” 

Hermana Verónica.

“Look at you! A grown man!”

Hermano Luis.

“Ven a visitarnos mi cielo”

Abuelita.

Lance couldn’t muster anymore cries, but the tears didn’t stop flowing. He looked at the sky. No.

His vision started to go blurry, impaired as the black dots started to grow in number and size. No.

His body started to grow stiff, but the blood continued to flow. No.

He started to feel light, his brain feeling like it was swimming in his skull as if it turned to mush. No.

The stars shined bright, the moon providing light as Lance laid on the ground, tears flowing, blood gushing, throat closing, body dying. No. No. NO. NO!!

“NO! PLEASE! LET ME LIVE!”

The teen shouts, panting his very last breaths. He wasn’t going to give up. He just knows, he just knows someone is listening! He must tell them, he must tell them!

“Please…”

His eyes started to grow heavy, his body growing stiffer and stiffer by the second as he felt his control slipping away.

He started to lose his vision, his tongue grew stiff, the smell of blood and forest started to fade, and the only sound heard was the rapid beating of his heart, giving its final pulses.

He groans a bit as he lifts his arm upwards, outstretching his hand to the sky above.

Ven a visitarnos mi cielo. Come visit us my sky.

“I want to live”.

Lance’s arm fell to his side as it gives up, his eyelids opening and closing slowly.

The stars shone above, the moon bright as the sun. Tonight, is his final night, as he looks at the night sky.

His eyes close slowly, with his last view being the space above.

What a beautiful night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Darkness. Pitch black void of nothingness.

 

 

 

 

So much for the afterlife.

 

 

 

 

He feels, light.

 

 

 

 

 

Wait, he feels? Light yeah, he already - no he is feeling! He feels his body feeling - bit light.

He is feeling!

He feels his body, his fingers his legs his toes his arms, everything ...

 

Like - he is sleeping ...

Sleeping? So can he wake up?

 

 

......

.........

 

 

 

 

"HE-LLO LAD!!”

Lance screeches as he wakes up with a jolt, his brain dropping all previous thoughts. What. The. HELL?!? Lance turns to the owner of the voice in an annoyed glare. The man looked like he was in his late, 40’s? No 50’s, maybe his early 60’s? He has wrinkles at the end of his eyes. He had bright orange hair slicked back with a single small strand sticking forward. The hair was a bit long, reaching the back of his neck with some strands sticking up in the end. He had a rather majestic moustache that was equality a bright orange with - purple eyes? A hooked nose and peach colored skin. What?

“Who are you?” Lance asks as he looks up at the man as he nurses his head a bit. Felt like he’s recovering from a migraine.

“The name is Coran! Brings it here lad!” The man - Coran, enthusiastically says as he throws his arm forward, offering a handshake.

Lance stops holding his head and takes the moustached man’s hand, “Lance” he says as Coran helps him up.

“Oh I know who you are my boy, and I got to say, that was quite a journey you had” Coran says as he moves his arms around a bit, elbowing Lance softly as a suggestive tone.

A journey?

“What journey?"

The man, Coran, gives him a soft smile, "You're trip to the town over, for that - coffee of yours"  

Lance stared at the older man, tilting his head a bit while trying to connect the dots. A town, coffee? ... He - remembers, a car and - Beyonce .. Coffee...  

 

What

 

"Darn lights, barely working at all"  I cuss lightly as I lean forward. Did I miss a sign? Right then, a smooth beat accompanied by a steady string melody cuts through the silence. Oh shit! 

The beat soon picks up the pace as Lance settles back, tapping his fingers on the wheel with anticipation.  A voice comes forth - 

"Sing it BEE!!" I shout as Beyonce begins the song. I sing along, jamming on, my hands on the wheel when -

 

Lance holds his head again, feeling a sudden jabbing pain as he leans forward a bit. What - the car -

 

The wheel became - 

 

He groans as his hands began to tremble. 

 

Breaks - 

 

He hisses a bit as his leg felt an incoming cramp. 

 

Speed - 

Edge - 

 

His hands start to tremble viciously, cold sweat began as he felt - chills running up his spines, goosebumps envelop his legs and - bits of pain stabbing against his forearms. A hand settles gently on his shoulder, "It's okay Lance, settle down here", the voice speaks softly to him as he guides him onto the ground. The teen drew his knees up and clutched his head as he felt the pain grow. What is - 

 

Car 

Windshield 

 

Glass

 

His breath became shallow as the tremble travels all over his body, his migraine growing worse. 

 

Pain blood tumbling 

 

A hand settles on his back, rubbing in deep soothing circles. "Breathe Lance. Breathe", the man says. Lance gulps a bit before exhaling, trying to calm down. 

 

Falling

S'more's Frapuccino - 

 

S'mores Frap ...

 

Oh shit ...  

 

"I - died" 

 

Lance stopped shivering, the migraine left as new memories came flooding in. The car going off the rails, the freefalling, him flailing in the car, crashing out of the car, hitting and rolling in the ground, the wounds the pain, the blood. The night sky ... The moon and stars ...  His final cry ... 

 

"I'm - dead" he says as he just stares at - nothing? 

 

He's - staring at a pitch-black - wall?

 

Lance soon looks around, noticing he's in a - pitch black place ... Everything is black, like a void of - nothingness. 

 

"Where am I?" the teen asks, now growing weary of - his faith. Is this what the afterlife looks like?

 

“We are in center of the two realms, the living and non-living. Your kind may know it as, 'The Limbo'. It is the middle ground of alive and dead. It is where the soul is trapped between transitioning into the afterlife, or going back to the living world" someone says. Lance immediately looks at his left to see - majestic mustache, Coran! Wait, Limbo? "I don't know why I expected it to be a bit more - lively?" the Cuban asks as he turns to look at the older man, a brow raised as he gave a small shrug. Coran hums, "Oh but it is. The Limbo isn’t this pitch-black void of nothingness, but part of it. I had to bring you here where no one can see us and know of your presence" he says as he twirls an end of his mustache. Wait, "Others? Soul? Middle? What is all this? No wait, better questions, what are thoooooose?!” The boy enthusiastically points at the man’s boots with both his hands, taking a look at the whole outfit, “Wait what’s any of that - what are you wearing?! You look like a fancy butler” Lance says as he gestures at the older man’s attire. The elder was wearing - a rather formal outfit, and Lance's got to admit, it does look elegant and cool. Where can he get those gloves? Coran, sputtered a bit, a hand on his chest as a look of horror crossed his face. “A fancy butler!? How dare you question my attire?!? It is a formal wear for the souls of elite status. They are souls who are given a position of power for their outstanding work in the real world - wait a tick you are getting me off track! Quit distracting me! We have only so much time, and so much to discuss. We can't stay here longer, let' go" Coran speaks quickly as he gets up, offering his hand to Lance. Lance accepts and gets up. Coran starts walking and continues to speak, "My apologies for raising my voice towards you, but what I'm doing is completely against the Code I swore to follow for all eternity. We are walking on a thread and so much time is left. The Reaper has yet to appear and notice your - body, so we must move quickly" Coran says as he walks at a fast-pace, Lance falling in his steps. "A quick run-down of things, you and I are Souls. Souls are the spirits the body inhibits that makes us who we are. It's our life source" Coran explains as Lance grows a bit wary, "When the life source leaves the body-"

"- we basically die" Lance finishes.

He doesn't see how Coran's face turn a bit - sour as a solemn frown appeared. "Afraid so my boy"

Lance nods lightly. I am dead. My soul left my body, I'm now said Soul. Now, I won't be able to see my little brother grow, teach my nephews to fight, fight the guys who come close to my nieces, attend my brother's wedding - GASP!

"I won’t be getting any food of mi abuelita!! NOOOOO!! Mis empanadas!!!” the teen cries out in horror. NO MORE DELICIOUS FOOD!! OH DIOS MIO! "WHY MUST YOU BE SO CRUEL!!!" he shouts as he looks at the heavens - or - think it's still up?  

"SHH! Quiet now! I already told you the others don't know you're here and dead. We must stay undercover" Coran scolds the boy as he starts to walk faster. 

Lance mumbles an apology, right, he's supposed to stay hidden - wait how don't they know he's dead? 

“And technically you are not dead dead, yet” Coran adds, never once faltering his step. Lance looks at him with a brow up, confusion in his eyes. What?

“What do you mean I’m not dead dead?”

“Well, you are dead, yes, but you didn’t fully transition into the spiritual world, just yet. As mentioned before, this dark room is part of the realm. Right now your soul is in the middle ground of Limbo. It has yet to transition to the spiritual world, unless we stop it" Coran says, turning to give Lance a smile. Lance - did a double-take. 

"Stop it? How?" Lance asks. Coran smile softened a bit before he turned forward and picked up his pace, "I’ll explain some more in my office”

Coran marched forward and Lance followed. Office? Where would that be? This place is just nothingness, they are walking on nothingness-ish. Solid nothingness. Where would an office be? 

The older man soon made an abrupt stop, making the teenage boy collide with him.

"Ah fuck - a heads-up would be nice" Lance says as he nurses his chest. Coran simply chuckles before outstretching his arm to grasps - what seems to be nothing, until a click was heard and a door was opened. Lance stares in awe, how-?

“Come along now. We have a deal to discuss” Coran says as he gestures Lance forward. Lance nods before entering the room. Deal? 

The place would've looked like a regular office if you didn’t count EVERYTHING! The room was spacious, white and round, the floors having a light grey color to it, seemed to be made of marble, smooth and steady. Lance looks around, his eyes going up to see how high the ceiling - “Holy Mary”. The ceiling - was dome shaped, a thin layer of glass separating them from the - beautiful night sky. It was a cosmic wonder. Billion and billion of stars scattered across the dark purple plain, with a few suns, moons and planets, some universes can even be noticed in the sky above! Woah!! “Amazing” Lance says as he sadly rips his eyes from the ceiling to look at the windows overlooking - a city! That must be The Limbo Coran was speaking of! It is - amazing! The place looks - colorful and lively. There were high-end buildings that reminded him of skyscrapers, some of them having intricate designs, like zig-zag pattern on the side, another one looks like boxes stacked on top of each other. There seems to be homes and apartments on hills, is that a shop down there?! Lance approached the window to take a closer look of the place, taking in details as more building appeared, colors become vibrant and patterns are prominent, so - pitch black. "WHAT THE HELL?!?" Lance shouts as he faces a reflection of himself on the now-closed (blinds?) windows. From behind his reflection, he sees Coran standing by the doorway. “Why did you close the -“ Lance stops as he turns to look at Coran; his left hand raised in a snap position, shoulder slouched forward a bit and eyes closed, his face looking rather - mad and irritated. Oh, right. Lance was here because of Coran. He is dead. He can't be seen by anyone. Damn. Lance's face look turned sheepish as he rubs the back of his head, turning his gaze down in shame, “Sorry, got distracted by the scenery” he says in a soft voice, looking up to Coran with an ashamed smile. The man sighs as he walks forward towards his desk. “It isn’t your fault place is beautiful. As for the blinds, I had to use them as a simple glimpse can mean us being discovered. Which leads me to important affairs. Nobody should know. If anyone finds about this, it can mean the end of my career, and your life - not just here in Limbo” he says as he walks past him. Lance gulps a bit and follows Coran while he walks towards the cabinet by his desk. The desk was moon crescent shaped made of glass, on the right side having a lamp with a few picture frames, bouquet or flowers and a cactus. On the left side behind the desk was a cabinet filer were Coran was and bookshelf next to it. Lance starts looking around the room some more, seeing at one corner there was a small nook of a library filled with multiple bookshelves, a dark blue carpet and white comfy chair. He looks on the other end and sees a small kitchen place with an island, fridge and some cabinets and counters, is that an electric stove? Coran soon clears his throat, having Lance snap out of his inspection and turn to the man who was already sitting behind his desk, two folders in front of him.

Coran's face grew stern as he moved forward a bit to his desk, placing his arms on the surface while clutching his hands, fingers intertwined. “Alright. As you aware, you’re dead, at least physically. Right now what you are, is your soul. Your soul takes the shape of the body you died in with the exception of injuries”

“So I am better?”

“Not quite. You’d feel the after-effects of the injuries for a couple of seconds as you experienced earlier, but then after, you won’t be able to feel pain or hunger. You are only a soul”

Lance chuckles a bit as he stares at his hands, turning them around a bit, “Cool”.

Coran nods before unlocking his hands and picking up the first folder. He flips a few pages as he spoke “Now we explained what’s happening here, it’s time to get into business”, the flipping came to a stop. “Alright, here in your files, it says you died on August 19, 2018, at exactly 11:59 PM”

“Darn, could've been August 20”

Coran raises a brow, shaking his head as he closed the file. He opens the second file and flipped through it before speaking, “At that exact time and date five other individuals died as well”

Lance frowns a bit as he crosses his arms, “Ah man, someone took my date”

“Tomfoolery on the side -“

“Sorry”

“These people however are nothing like your average Joe” Coran says as he closes the file and places it on the desk, “The five of them will accomplish amazing feats that will change the world in the later future. However, after their deaths, I see how the world will be thrown down a drain and will only bring more set-backs to the current society” Coran says, his finger jabbing onto the table, emphasizing his point while looking at Lance with determination in his eyes. Lance was kinda confused.

“How does that affect me?”

“Out of all the 6 people who died, you were the only one who wanted to live”

What?

“What does that mean?” Lance had to ask, he - may know, but he just needs to know for sure.

Coran's frown deepened as he hunched forward a bit on his desk, looking up and directly at Lance.

“Because unlike your death, these people didn’t die in an accident ... They died by suicide”

Lance gulps. Oh boy.

“Wow, death by - suicide ... Are you sure? ”

Coran sighs before leaning back in his chair, “I’m afraid so. The pain these people were facing was too much for them to bear, they just couldn’t see a brighter future for themselves. That is why I chose you to help me. You are here because you cried for your life, a second chance. I can grant you the chance, if you help me”. Coran moves a bit back from his desk and opens the drawer in front of him, pulling out a white folder and placing it on the desk while closing the drawer. He moves closer to his desk again and clears his throat before looking directly at Lance.

“You will help me by ensuring these five individuals don’t die on August 19 at 11:59 PM. In this folder, you will have the information of the person you will be looking after along with the task. The task will be different for every individual”, Coran slides the folder towards Lance, the boy picking it up as the elder continued talking. “There’s no time frame except for the dea-“

Lance looks up in shock.

“- the time of death” Coran corrects himself quickly. He face palms himself lightly and mumbles an apology before continuing. “The level of severity will determine the order in helping each person. Consider it as levels on a video game, “Lvl. 1”, “Lvl. 2”, 3 so on. When the d- once you ensured none of these people died on the date of your death, then you will have the chance to continue living”, Coran finishes, Lance looking down at the folder and inspecting it more closely. Looks like any regular folder, a soft texture with a pocket on one side and a pressboard on the other.

“What do you think?” Coran asks as he looks at the Cuban teen. Lance closes the folder and just stares at it. He was quiet, shocked. His prayers were heard. I was right, someone was listening! If he accepts this job, he will go back to - Earth? Let's say living. But if he doesn’t, then he had his last day alive ... Lance looks up at Coran, a glint of determination sparking in his deep ocean-blue eyes. “How much time do I have before August 19?” “You will have 1 year and 3 months”. 1 year and 3 months, wait - “I will be sending you back in time from the day and time of your death. 1 year and 3 months before August 19, 2018, at 11:59 PM” Coran says in confirmation.

The teen looks back down at the folder in hand, he’ll go back in time, back from the start of his Junior year, barely turning 16. He’ll be able to redo the entire year to help these people. He’ll be able to redo everything. He can re-live the year - and if successful, he’ll continue to the next year.

However ... 

"Why me?” Lance asks as he tracks his eyes to Coran. "There can be a lot of people who - died around my time, right?" 

 

Coran gave Lance a confused look. Did he only do it out of co-?

 

"Because you are full of life. You have so much love, energy, patience and joy, I am sure if anyone is able to help these people, is you. Wouldn't have picked anyone else from your time of death, which was a good handful"  Lance stayed silent.

"You're the best candidate of the bunch," he says with a soft smile. Lance looked at Coran with - awe. He looks down at the folder in his hands. A second chance. The best candidate. If he completes the mission - 

“Ven a visitarnos mi cielo"

He looks up from the folder to Coran, now a raging fire of determination in his eyes.

 

“I accept”

 

The teen outstretches his hand forward to the older man. Coran smiles before moving his hand and firmly shaking Lance’s. It’s a deal.

 

“Till next time!” Coran says as he snaps his fingers, and like that, Lance was once again engulfed in darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's so 

 

Sleepy...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

————•

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A small groan emitted from the mouth of a teen, darn alarm!! The teen slams his hand onto the off button, turning and cuddling onto a body pillow a bit more, trying to go back to sleep. Wait a minute - Lance sits up with a jolt, snapping his eyes open immediately. That alarm, that wasn’t his phone! That was-

Then, Lance's eyes widen as he looked around.

The room was about medium size, a window next to his bed and the door on the right end corner of his left side. The walls were littered with posters of shows, video games, a world map, space and spaceships. Through them, you can see the shade of light blue. On his right, there was a dresser with an alarm clock, phone, headphones and lamp. He looks at the wall to see a huge mural of pictures, next to it a door on the end of the wall, most likely the closet. He looks around to see bits of laundry on the floor by the basket and a skateboard with roller blades by it. He looks forward to seeing a desktop and desk on the far right end of the room with baseball bat and balls next to it.

This - isn’t the dorm nor Lotor’s dorm. This is -

“My room. I’m back in my room”

Lance smiles and laughs in disbelief, he can’t believe it. He’s - home. He looks down at his body and - no wounds, scratches or bruises. He touched his midsection and arms a bit, quite - confused. What is he-?

Something shifted on his left. He turns and looks down to see -

A yellow folder.

What-?

"I accept" 

 

Coran. Folder. Second chance. Deal.

 

All the memories started to come back to him, memories he assumed where a nightmare but - were actually real. He actually -

“I - I died”

Which means -

He turns to look at his alarm clock.

11:59 AM.

He grabs his phone from his nightstand and turns it on.

May 19, 2017.

1 year and 3 months, with around an extra 12 hours, before August 19, 2018, at 11:59 PM. 

Oh. Shit. He did go back in time. He did die. He met a guy named Coran. He made a deal with Coran. 5 individual lives for his.

He can’t - believe - he -

“LANCE! YA DESPIERTATE! VAN A DAR LAS 12," a soothing, strong and beautiful voice brings his thoughts to a halt. 

“Mami”

Lance laughs again. No way, all that shit actually happened! He feels something moving by him. He looks down at the folder again, picking it up to inspect it once more. Yellow? He swears it was white when Coran handed it to him. Did he dye it by accident or a trick of the light?

“LANCE! YA ESTA’S DESPIERTO? VENTE A COMER!” his mother calls again.

Oh right.

“SI! DEJAME CAMBIARME!” 

The teen looks at the folder a bit more before opening it. Inside, on the left pocket there showed some sheets of paper. On the pressboard, there was a sheet of information. A profile? Lance reads it over.

“Name: Hunk Garrett. Age: 16. Birthday: January 13. Race: Samoan, Attending: Garrison Academy, Junior year? He’s in my class! Hm, I don’t remember ever seeing this guy around. Weird. Favorite Color: Yellow, so that’s why the folder is - yellow?, Likes: Tech, Cooking and robotics, Dislikes: Fights, Heights and double-modulating? Okay? … Where’s the task?”

Lance rifles around the papers in the left pocket finding - a small slip of yellow paper. It was the size of an index card, small and almost unnoticeable. Think this is the one. Lance takes it out and reads the printed letters.

For the first person, Lance’s task was to -

“Be a friend”

Lance was a bit confused by the paper. Not in the sense of what it’s asking, but more of the why or how it came to be. Does he not have friends? Like some- Lance shakes his head. He looked at the task and at the info page, where a picture of Hunk was on the right end of the page. He has dark skin, dark straight hair with an orange bandanna, rectangular-ish shaped face, round nose and chocolate brown eyes.

“A friend. Alright Hunk - Garrett, you’ll have the best of friends with me! Lance-!”

“LANCE! LA COMIDA!”

Oh snaps.

“VOY!”

Lance immediately gets up, putting the folder in his “Important Drawer” on his desk before going downstairs.

No worries Hunk, Lance McClain will be your friend!

He'll be the best of friends! Matter, in fact, he’ll go above and beyond to be your best friend!

No worries Hunk, a best friend is on your way!

Ah! She’s making Empanadas!!!

 

"Y LA ROPA!?!" 

Ah shit.