I remember how I died. I can tell you. I was walking back to the dorms at Yale, sipping on my coffee. I was listening to Fall Out Boy to wake me up, and I had the music on so loud I couldn't hear anything besides what was blaring out of my earbuds. You know how when you're a kid your parents always tell you to look both ways of a street before you cross it? You should listen. I wasn't paying attention -though to be honest I should have-, my mind still bleary from exhaustion. I'd been cramming for history finals all night you see.
Anyways, I think you get what happened next; I got hit by a car while crossing a street, something you might read in some kind of trashy fanfiction and yada yada yada. As I felt myself being pulled into... wherever I was going, I heard a voice whisper in my ear.
"You have died, young one. But, like everyone who's lived a mediocre life, I can give you a chance to be someone great." I wan't sure whether I should feel insulted or not about the 'mediocre life' part. It was true, after all. I felt strangely... calm about being dead. I suppose I'd felt more like a ghost than anything else; kind of floating mindlessy around. " Do you accept to be reborn, child?" I thought about it for a second. I mean, I'd had my whole life ahead of me when I died; why not give it another go? Sure, I'd miss my friends and family but if I was never going to see them again anyways, why not? Determination filled me. I'd made my decision.
"Yes," I croaked. "I accept your offer." Man, if only I'd known the shitstorm I was about jump into headfirst after saying those five, dreaded words.