I'm Quinn Jackson. I'm 16 and healthy. I was on my way to a party when I got hit by a car coming too fast. The driver didn't come back to help me, so I was left there dying.

Dying doesn't hurt, like many people think.

It actually is soothing, like your whole life was a strenuous  day at work and you finally get to rest. Well, when I died, I felt as though as I was being lifted into a better place.

I was happy in that place.

Unfortunately, my family wasn't. I would watch them all day long and see them praying for me. I could hear their thoughts and to be honest, they weren't pretty. Most of them considered dying because of what happened to me. Though I have no idea why.

I could hear them, they couldn't hear me.

Author guidance for This story

I disabled the ratings cause, this one is for fun.

I'm not aiming for fame or recognition here.

It's just a profession of my belief since I'm a Christian.

updated Oct 8 '11 by SilverMist