Let's begin

Consider this as one of those FICTIONAL stories you’ve read. Happy reading.

I’m not a professional writer but I’ll try my best to transcribe my story in the easiest way possible. Let’s start with a little introduction.

I am Melissa Bardot, daughter of Cindy Bardot. I know her first name doesn’t go well with her last name but that’s her parent’s fault. And yes, I go with my mother’s family name because my father died before I was born. I don’t even remember his name to be honest and my mother raised me alone, what a brave lady.

You might be thinking there are several single moms out there so what’s so brave about it. But trust me raising me was really a great task, I was the most troublesome child in the whole city or maybe the whole country. Or I was just born with the worst luck because whatever I did, always went wrong.

Let me just tell you one of those b-a-d incidents that happened during my 4th grade. So, we had this parents meet and greet event held at our school and our class prepared a small play for their entertainment which was not entertaining at all.

We were performing a tragic incident of a family who lost their 3 sons in World War II. And I played the eldest son with a square shaped fake brown moustache under my nose, who sneaked into the enemy’s territory to steal information.

So basically I got busted as one of the soldiers caught me stealing the information, and now we were facing each other with wooden swords in hand. Swords right...! Why swords when they had guns during World War II? Only our history teacher knows as she was in charge of this play. So, according to how we practised, after a fierce fight, I kill the enemy guy but later they arrest me after finding traces of his blood on my sword. BUT…… for me, things don’t always go so smoothly.

During our fight when I swung my sword to hit him, it slipped out of my hand and fell backstage hitting the boy, who was holding the huge fort. Due to the hard slap by my wooden sword, his grip loosened making the fort fall over me. Though it was made of cardboards, it had few rods inside to keep it straight. One of the rods fell right on my head, tearing my scalp and making it bleed.

How unfortunate, right? But that’s not even half bad as to how I got the scar on my right ankle from a wild boar during our field trip in 6th grade. And also the time I died.

Yes, you read it correctly. I’m DEAD. And unfortunately, I’m not a ghost or a zombie…. It's way more complicated than that. And if you think these things don’t exist I’d call you a muggle if I was Harry Potter or a mortal if I was Percy Jackson but in our language you’re just HUMAN.

It all started with my death.

Hello peeps! Author here.

Hope you like the story. It's my 1st time posting a story so please do comment below if you any suggestions for improving my work.

Boi boi.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***