New York is utterly amazing. I had put it down in my list of places I had wanted to travel to before I died, the irony I was only now visiting it now I had now kicked the bucket wasn't lost on me.

When Death had told me I would be living in a different city I had thought I would be living in at least the same country as before. Dagon had explained that new Suicide Dancers must now be assigned to a new country, after previous ones had attempted to contact family and friends. It made sense, I guess, but it didn't make this whole transition any easier.

Dagon seemed nice enough. As my spirit handler I hadn't known what to expect. He held himself as though he had lived a thousand years yet looked as though he was in his late thirties. His dark hair dishevelled, he joked that it was from the wind that surrounded him every time he jumped and that I should make sure to take a hair brush we me at all times or I would end up looking the same. I didn't know whether to believe him or not but made a mental note to look one out that would fit in a bag.

My flat, or apartment as it is called this side of the 'pond' was cosy. One bedroom with an open kitchen, dining room and living space. Had I been alive and working my old job as a primary school teacher, a place like this would have been 0well out of my budget. Everything was high speck and it was right in the middle of the city centre.

Dagon had left this morning after jumping me here and giving me a quick explanation.

"There is nothing too it really." He had said, lounging back on the pristine white sofa's that I had tentatively perched on.

"It will be strange the first time you feel it, but you will know what to do. The team in this city is seven now, including you. New York, San Francisco, London and Paris have the biggest teams. Stress of the city, you know."

I had only nodded along, not having lived in a city as big as this before I had yet to experience the stress he was talking about.

"If you need anything or something urgent comes up then call me. Not everyone is cut out for this job, so don't think of it as failing if you decide you would rather go off into the afterlife your soul has chosen."

He had given me a new phone, his number my only contact.

"The only rule is no romantic relationships. You can make friends, just nothing more. Understand?"

The nod that I found myself doing had been nothing more than mechanical.

"Then good luck with your first day of work." Dagon had smiled, before in a blink of an eye he had disappeared from the sofa.

Jumped. He hadn't just disappeared, he had jumped, I had to remind myself.

A tingle of excitement rose up inside me as I remembered him jumping with me here this morning. The prospect of having something akin to a real life super power was pretty insane.

To be fair, this whole thing was pretty insane. The tingling inside me was quenched by a wave of sadness that flowed over me as though a bucket of ice water had just been tipped over my head.

I was alone. I was dead. I missed my family.

Picking up a newly set up laptop, I tapped the keys until it brought me to a familiar webpage. Tentatively I searched for the name of my mother. I was met by pictures of her and I together, smiling and happy. Underneath, words of condolence, heartbreak and love at her loss.

My loss too.

I scrolled through my father's page, then my sisters and finally onto my best friend Sammy's. Each of their pages filled with words of love and support.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realised this was as close as I was ever going to get to them. I bookmarked the page, vowing to check on them each week, see how they were doing, catch up on their lives. They were surrounded by friends and family, my friends and family, and I knew that they would be O.K. one day. That I would be O.K with it all one day.

I shut the lid of the laptop down, already half the day spent gazing at familiar faces. Standing up I walked over to the mirror, hastily wiping away the fallen tears from my dark brown eyes. My skin was pale, paler than it used to be. But I used to spend most days outside, it was summer in England and that meant the only opportunity to get a tan that wasn't out of a bottle. Being underground for a few weeks was obviously not the way to get glowing skin.

I fixed my hair and grabbed my bag, cardigan and keys deciding that the best way for me to start my new life was to jump head first into it. Well, walk out the door and interact with people.

I hoped that on my trip out I would get the feeling that Dagon had been talking about and I would be able to save someone.

It wasn't for at least four hours of aimless wandering and sightseeing when a small tug on my heart made me stop in my tracks. It pulled again, a little harder. It was an incredible feeling, unnerving too as I knew it was telling me someone, somewhere wanted to die.

The pull on my heart grew stronger so I slipped into a back alley, It was empty, thankfully. The last thing I needed was to draw attention to myself. They could handle the odd person, Dagon had said, but I should try not to jump in the middle of a busy street filled with people with cameras.

I gasped as my heart tugged again, and closed my eyes knowing what should happen next. The wind ripped through my hair. The feeling of jumping alone like nothing I had felt before. A moment of weightlessness followed by my feet touching solid ground.

At least that was what I thought I had landed on. I opened my eyes, blinking away the bright afternoon sun and gasped as I looked around.

I was on the roof of an old building, sky scrapers towered above me, but peering over the edge proved I was way too high for the ground to be my friend.

Or the friend of the person sat on the edge.

I didn't recognise where I was, though to be fair It was my first day in the city. I thought about asking the girl whose legs were swinging over the side but the last thing I wanted was to spook her and make her jump.

I awkwardly looked around, setting my bag down before clearing my throat softly.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, looking me up and down before reverting her gaze to the ground below.

"What a beautiful view." I said, walking over to stand next to her, keeping my distance from the edge. I didn't know what would happen to me if I slipped and fell, considering I was already dead. I had no real desire to find out.

"I guess." The young girl murmured, her eyes not moving.

I looked at her carefully. She was in her late teens, early twenties at a guess. Her hair was auburn, hanging down to her waist. The girl was pretty, wide blue eyes and freckles sprinkled across her cheeks. At first glance, I could see nothing wrong. But I looked closer.

Her hair was dull and limp, the ends split and frayed as though she hadn't cut it in over a year. Her skin was pale, paler than it should be, as though it had been drained. Blue bags sat beneath her sad eyes. Her fingers, grasping the ledge beside her, were dry and her nails chewed away.

"What brings you here?" I asked, sitting beside her, my back to the ledge so I could look into her eyes.

"Oh, you know, returning some books." She replied, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

A library then. I looked around again and it clicked in my mind where we were. City Library.

"How did you get up here?" I asked, looking around to try and find a hatch or ladder to get us both down safely.

"Same way you did." She replied finally looking over to me in disbelief with a quirked eyebrow.

I nodded my head. Well, she had a point. I highly doubted she would believe me if I told her I jumped here. Best to avoid the whole jumping topic given the situation and all anyway.

"I'm new to the city." I began, after a prolonged span of silence. "Left behind everyone I know, family and friends. Not that it was my choice. But I'm thankful for the fresh start, you know?"

The girl beside me sighed, her eyes turning upward to the sky.

"I was a primary school teacher. Ages 6 and 7 usually. I think I'll miss working with children, I'll have to see if I can find a nursery or after school program I can help at." I was talking to her as though I was talking to myself.

"Know of any cafes that will serve me a cup of tea? Not like American tea, but real English stuff. I think not having it is going to be quite the life adjustment."

I was rambling but getting my desired outcome. The girl next to me had now leaned back away from the edge, looking to the sky with an irritated scowl.

"And the food! I forgot how different the food is! I'm really going to miss Yorkshire Puddings, though they are easy enough to make from scratch I suppose..."

"Do you ever stop talking?" The girl said, turning to me with a huff.

"Of course. But I find talking is an effective tool to make someone else talk back to you. What's your name? I'm Ellie."

"Olivia."

"It's really lovely to meet you Olivia." I replied, genuinely happy to meet her.

"You know, I looked Death straight in the eyes once."

Well, I think it was the eyes, he had a cloak on at the time, but she didn't need to think I was insane or anything.

"It was terrifying, and I knew in that minute that being alive was the best thing in the world." Or at least, it was.

Olivia crossed her arms in front of her, as though giving herself a hug.

"What makes you think I don't like being alive." She whispered, her eyes darting back to the ground.

I smiled at her as she looked at me, her eyes watering.

"I've told you my story, it seems only fair that you tell me yours." I asked after a long silent pause.

Olivia sniffed, curling up her legs from the ledge to cross them, her arms hugging her knees.

"My mom died this time last year." She started, her voice quiet. "And dad has moved on already, new wife and step kid that he loves more than me."

"I am sorry to hear that your mum passed away. That must have been really tough for you." I replied, saddened by her loss. "What was she like?"

It was the first time I saw her smile, and she had a lovely smile. "She was tall, skinny, but gave the best bear hugs you could ever want. She was smart too, but she gave up her job as a scientist when I was three. Wanted to spend more time with me." She looked away, into the distance as she remembered.

I stayed silent, watching her and waiting for her to continue.

"She baked the best chocolate chip cookies you've ever tasted, all gooey in the middle but crunchy on the outside." Olivia turned to face me, the ledge forgotten. "People say I look like her." Her eyebrows scrunched together as though she didn't like the idea. "My dad says it the most. I think that's why he doesn't like me around. He practically packed all my bags for me when I said I wanted to come out to college here. He never visits, and when he does he cancels last minute because his new wife felt too tired or his new kid couldn't not go to soccer club for one week."

I watched as she took a deep breath, only just realising she had poured her thoughts out to a stranger.

"I'm sorry that your dad has been letting you down, that's really not cool. Have you told him how you feel?" I asked.

Olivia shrugged. "Even if I did it wouldn't change anything."

"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes it takes you telling someone how you feel and how their actions are affecting you to realise. Your dad might think you want some space, or that you don't need him now you're at college. Maybe you should give him a call tonight, tell him what you told me." I suggested it softly and slowly, not knowing how she may take my suggestion.

"Maybe." She sniffed in reply. "What do you care anyway, you don't know me."

I leaned forward, catching her eyes. "No, I don't. But the fact that you like chocolate chip cookies gooey on the inside and crunchy on the out means that I know we will make very, very good friends."

What is your instant friend thing?

Everyone has one! Mine is if the other person talks passionately about glittery things and books- I know then that we could be good friends!

For the Judges of the Open Novella contest, the word count at the end of this chapter is- 3,846 k