Izalia, for the second time that day, woke up in some strange place surrounded by strange people and not having an idea in the world of what was happening. She was beyond confused by everything and didn't know who to ask or what to do. 

For a second, she stayed still, noticing the soft blanket beneath her and something warm on top of her. She just wanted to close her eyes and wake up later to a normal life where everything that had happened was only a bad dream. But when she opened her eyes a little later, she was still lying on a bed covered by a warm blanket, surrounded by strange walls that looked somewhat familiar. 

Frowning, she slowly sat up and looked around. She gasped upon seeing her posters hung sloppily on the walls, overlapping each other, some torn and bent while others were new and crisp. Glancing down, she saw her clothes scattered across the room, draped over chairs or half lying, half falling off an open drawer that jutted out from her various dressers. 

"What..." Izalia scanned her room then looked down at herself. She was still wearing the same white shirt and jeans when she had been in that weird castle with Death.

She thought about Death and if they were silently watching her from some sort of crystal globe or something in a dark, ominous room under the castle. Thinking about it, she could see it as if it was part of a movie which is what everything seemed. 

When was she going to wake up? 

For her own sake, she pinched herself on her arm, wincing a bit and closing her eyes. And when she reopened them, she was still in her room, still lying on her bed under the covers, and still confused. 

Scowling, she shoved the covers off and swung her legs over the bed, taking a second to take a deep breath and calm down. While this was all frustrating, it was almost... enjoyable. Since she's seemingly dead, it was nice Death had given her another chance to see her family. At the same time, however, she knew she was on a sort of mission that would, eventually, lead either to her continuation of life or extinction. There was a lot riding on her, and she had no idea what she was doing. What Death had said to her made little sense and, perhaps, that was one of the disadvantages of being a mere human compared to an eternal being. Possible extinction. It made her wonder how many others have had chances like this, how many others died before their time, and how many others have completely ceased to exist. It honestly scared her—to just evaporate and become nothing but air, not a trace of what she once was. 

Izalia shivered at the thought then stood up carefully, glancing down at her feet then at the floor around her, layered by clothes and papers and random knick-knacks. Blowing out air, she took careful steps around her room and came up to her mirror that sat on one of her dressers that squatted opposite the bed. Nothing about her seemed different, but as she cocked her head to the side to make sure it was really her in the mirror and not some weird apparition, she noticed a black mark peeking out from behind her right ear. 

Curious, she pulled her hair over her left shoulder and tilted her head more to see a black symbol etched on her skin, almost engraved. It was two black, wispy wings outstretched, reminding her of the way Death's robes fell around their feet and curled up in black wisps. 

Frowning, Izalia covered it back up with her hair, pulling it down over her shoulders but stopped suddenly when she saw something odd. At first, she didn't quite know what was off until she moved her hands down by her side and noticed almost transparent, white wisps float off her skin. 

"What the..." Izalia stumbled forward, resting her hands on her mirror and looking at herself. If she looked close enough, she could see smaller, almost microscopical particles slowly floating off her skin, up into the air, and, finally, fading into nothing. Her eyes widened as she toppled backwards, her arms flailing until she landed on her bed. Swallowing, she examined her hands, flipping them over and over, watching as more pieces floated away. 

Scanning over her room, Izalia sat, confused before she gasped, realising what was going on: as each second past, more and more of herself was slowly fading away until she faded into nothingness. 

She gasped for breath as she lowered herself onto her bed, covering her eyes with the backs of her hand. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes until a knock came at her door. Quickly, she sat up and wiped away a stray tear before giving a shaky, "Yes?" 

"You good in there, pumpkin?" 

It was her dad. He was the only person who ever called her that since he found out her immense love for the pumpkin fields when she was younger. 

Izalia nodded then realised he couldn't see her "Oh, uh, yeah, I'm good, dad." 

"Alright, dinner in a few."

She could hear his footsteps get softer and softer as he went down the hallway and, most likely, back towards the kitchen. Izalia let out a puff of air then stood up, taking one last look at herself in the mirror and the soft particles rising from her, then opened her door and went to the kitchen. 

What was she supposed to do, again? Did Death even specify that? Or did they, and she just wasn't listening? 

Sighing, she stopped just before she got to the kitchen and took a deep breath. These would be her last days seeing her family, and while she knew her afterlife depended on whatever her mission was, she just wanted to sit down with her family and enjoy whatever time she had left. 

Izalia didn't even know how much time she had left. The thought brought a damper on her already bad mood. What was she going to do?

She stepped into the kitchen, taking in the savoury aromas and storing it in her memory. Her mother was at the stove stirring some sort of pasta from what she could tell, spoons and bowls crowded around her on the counter looking as if they were going to topple over at any second. Her father was sitting at the head of the table, mug in one hand, a newspaper in the others. Behind her, her brother was playing some video game, all of his attention focused on the screen. 

This whole scene seemed familiar to her, and she knew she had gone back in time but not how far. However, since it did seem familiar, she mustn't have gone too far otherwise she wouldn't have remembered any of it. 

Sighing, Izalia sat down at the wooden, oval kitchen table and glanced at the papers scattered on top of it. There were bills and letters and old report cards and random sheets of paper with random scribblings on it. While she knew in her life she would've been disgusted at the mess, she realised she welcomed it instead, glad to have this last chance with them, even if it only was for a little while. 

"How's it going, dad?" Izalia started, peeking up at him. 

Her dad gently folded the newspaper and laid it down on the table as if it were something sacred and delicate. "Good, you?" 

"Pretty good, I suppose." she knew she sounded unsure, but she didn't know how else to sound. She didn't know what she was doing or what to do and what not to do. Were there any rules she had to follow like the people in time travelling movies did? 

"What's wrong, pumpkin?" he gave her a weird look.

"Nothing," she sighed, then turned herself to look over at her mother by the stove. "What are you making, mom?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her dad pick up the newspaper again as if he wasn't just conversing with her. 

"Spaghetti, you're favourite." her mother smiled.

Izalia turned back towards the table and almost fell off her chair when she saw Death sitting across from her, smiling. She opened her mouth to say something, but they raised a single digit to their lips then waved their hand, black dust floating up into the air until they eventually dissipated.  Her parents and brother stopped moving and everything went silent.

"Okay, now talk."

She was taken aback. Since when did she follow orders from them? 

Shaking their head, Death gave her an amused look. "If I didn't, they would've seen you talking to something they couldn't see."

"What?"

"Is everything difficult to understand for you?"

"What? I mean, no!" she spluttered, waving her hands back and forth.

"Sure. Anyway, I'm just here to clarify a few things for you that I couldn't before since I was on a bit of a time crunch and you came at an inopportune time. In short, you have two weeks to figure out why you died early and prevent it so you die on time. Secondly, this isn't like those weird time travelling movies so don't even think about that. Lastly, you are restricted to two weeks and two weeks only. As I'm sure you've already figured out, a little bit of you disappears each day until, when two weeks is up, you fade altogether. Not only do you simply cease to exist, any memory of you is erased, forever."

Her eyes widened, and she held back the tears that were forming in her eyes. "I don't want that, though." 

"Then figure it out."

Izalia pursed her lips but nodded. She now knew what was really at stake now, but she still didn't know how to approach it. 

"Will you help?" she doubted, but she might as well ask just in case. 

"I'm Death, not your tutor." 

Frowning, she sighed but understood. She had to do this for herself and, deep down, she really wanted to do this for herself. 

Because her whole existence and everything about her would fall into a dark, endless abyss and would never be seen again if she couldn't figure this out within two weeks, a scarily close deadline.

—

Anddd chapter 3. I hope you liked it :)

I'm struggling a little right now to get the story going, but I know as soon as I get it going, I'll be good haha.

I'm always open to comments and constructive criticism!

And, of course, please consider voting if you liked the chapter!

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