Chapter 1:
Dead is Such a Strong Word
My name is Devin Deathgaze, and I am dead. Crazy, no? You’d never think a handsome devil like myself would be dead at this age, but here I am. And here you are, looking at me, as I recount my life; or death rather. I always felt that everyone learned more from death than they did from life, both the deceased and the living. To the living it teaches to truly live life, and not waste it on such childish things as prejudice. To the dead, it teaches that, not matter what you may think you are not invincible.
No one is.
But anyway, back to what I was saying before. I am here to tell you my story, and you are here to listen. Simple as that. You might think I’m lying, you might think I’m exaggerating; heck you might even think I’m crazy. Nevertheless, I tell you that what you are about to hear is totally true, from top to bottom.
My name is Devin Deathgaze, and this is my die -ography
~~
I wasn’t always dead you know. I had a life once upon a time.
I was born in Detroit, Michigan, my name back then was Devin Fitzgerald Trenton III, named after my father. It wouldn’t matter anyway, as my old man died when I was too young to remember him. I was told that he was a fine Doctor, and was well respected in his field. One stormy night however, he got called in to the hospital on an emergency. We lived ten miles from the hospital, and he knew that the roads would be covered in ice too slippery to walk on with football cleats. He didn’t care though. He was so selfless, so devoted to what he did. It was like nothing else mattered except his patients life, and that was what made him the best doctor.
Unfortunately, caring led him to his downfall.
My mother and I had to move after that. She had been a stay at home mother and wife, and had very little job skills. She knew that she had to go back to college and get her degree is she ever wished to properly support us. This meant giving up a lot of things, including our mansion home. We were moved to the famous 8 Mile, the trailer park.
We were so close my mother and I, heh, I guess we had to be living in that little trailer. Good friends and good memories were made there, and it was probably one of the best things that could’ve happened to us. That is, until I hit Middle School. I always got teased, kids calling me “trailer trash” and the like. I didn’t mind them though, because even the law said they could say what they wanted to.
But it damn sure didn’t say I had to listen.
I was a smart kid, and I always got straight A’s. I strived for knowledge, and absorbed it wherever I could. I understood the importance of a good education at a young age, which only drove me further towards becoming a bookworm. I always had my nose in a book, even if I wasn’t in school. Luckily for me though, I wasn’t the only bookworm in school.
Tabitha Venture was her name, and I to this day believe that she was my soul mate. We were so alike, yet so different at the same time. When we were together it was like beautiful music, and I was in haplessly love. We carried that love all through middle and high school, and at times it was the only thing that kept me from suicide.
We had finally made it to senior year, and everything was great. I was accepted in to Princeton, which was the school I had wanted to go to since eighth grade. Tabitha had been accepted to Harvard, but we knew that didn’t matter. We loved each other too much for distance to keep us apart. We were totally inseparable, which is why it made perfect sense for me to ask her to the senior prom.
Of course she said yes, and so we both began to prepare for the big night. We had everything planned out months in advance from the limo, to our clothes, to our entrance. We were going to do the whole thing in style, just like the rich people did. My mom of course paid for most of it, as she had gotten her degree in Criminal Law and was a partner in a law firm now.
Finally, the big night came. The limousine driver had screwed up, and had pick up Tabitha and brought her to my place instead of the other way around. We didn’t care though, as long as we were together. My mom called us both in, and went on her “I have to have pictures to remember this moment” thing. Everything seemed to be perfect.
Then it happened.
Bursting into my house, a man with a gun demanding that we all drop down to the floor. I peaked out of the window, and saw that he had already strangled the limousine driver to death. It was the most scared I had ever been in my entire life, but I knew what I had to do. I had to protect my mom and girlfriend, no mater what the cost.
As soon as I got the opportunity I rushed the man from behind, grabbing him as tight as I could. I quickly shouted at my mom to call 911, and get some help here ASAP. Tabitha grabbed the gun off the floor, and held it at the man. All of a sudden, the man broke free and made a charge for Tabitha. She panicked and pulled the trigger.
The gun was loaded with hollow tipped, nine-millimeter bullets. They tore straight through his stomach, and into my heart.
~~
And now I’m here. Dead, although I’m different than most dead people. Even after I died, my life had a purpose; one that I had no idea what it was. I have these strange… powers now that I can’t explain, nor do I understand. I just know that I can use them to help people in many different ways, and that is what I intend to do.
Although, it would be easier if they could actually see me.
____
this is actually a fic I started like, three years ago here. Decided to revive it based on current user's reactions.
Dead is Such a Strong Word
My name is Devin Deathgaze, and I am dead. Crazy, no? You’d never think a handsome devil like myself would be dead at this age, but here I am. And here you are, looking at me, as I recount my life; or death rather. I always felt that everyone learned more from death than they did from life, both the deceased and the living. To the living it teaches to truly live life, and not waste it on such childish things as prejudice. To the dead, it teaches that, not matter what you may think you are not invincible.
No one is.
But anyway, back to what I was saying before. I am here to tell you my story, and you are here to listen. Simple as that. You might think I’m lying, you might think I’m exaggerating; heck you might even think I’m crazy. Nevertheless, I tell you that what you are about to hear is totally true, from top to bottom.
My name is Devin Deathgaze, and this is my die -ography
~~
I wasn’t always dead you know. I had a life once upon a time.
I was born in Detroit, Michigan, my name back then was Devin Fitzgerald Trenton III, named after my father. It wouldn’t matter anyway, as my old man died when I was too young to remember him. I was told that he was a fine Doctor, and was well respected in his field. One stormy night however, he got called in to the hospital on an emergency. We lived ten miles from the hospital, and he knew that the roads would be covered in ice too slippery to walk on with football cleats. He didn’t care though. He was so selfless, so devoted to what he did. It was like nothing else mattered except his patients life, and that was what made him the best doctor.
Unfortunately, caring led him to his downfall.
My mother and I had to move after that. She had been a stay at home mother and wife, and had very little job skills. She knew that she had to go back to college and get her degree is she ever wished to properly support us. This meant giving up a lot of things, including our mansion home. We were moved to the famous 8 Mile, the trailer park.
We were so close my mother and I, heh, I guess we had to be living in that little trailer. Good friends and good memories were made there, and it was probably one of the best things that could’ve happened to us. That is, until I hit Middle School. I always got teased, kids calling me “trailer trash” and the like. I didn’t mind them though, because even the law said they could say what they wanted to.
But it damn sure didn’t say I had to listen.
I was a smart kid, and I always got straight A’s. I strived for knowledge, and absorbed it wherever I could. I understood the importance of a good education at a young age, which only drove me further towards becoming a bookworm. I always had my nose in a book, even if I wasn’t in school. Luckily for me though, I wasn’t the only bookworm in school.
Tabitha Venture was her name, and I to this day believe that she was my soul mate. We were so alike, yet so different at the same time. When we were together it was like beautiful music, and I was in haplessly love. We carried that love all through middle and high school, and at times it was the only thing that kept me from suicide.
We had finally made it to senior year, and everything was great. I was accepted in to Princeton, which was the school I had wanted to go to since eighth grade. Tabitha had been accepted to Harvard, but we knew that didn’t matter. We loved each other too much for distance to keep us apart. We were totally inseparable, which is why it made perfect sense for me to ask her to the senior prom.
Of course she said yes, and so we both began to prepare for the big night. We had everything planned out months in advance from the limo, to our clothes, to our entrance. We were going to do the whole thing in style, just like the rich people did. My mom of course paid for most of it, as she had gotten her degree in Criminal Law and was a partner in a law firm now.
Finally, the big night came. The limousine driver had screwed up, and had pick up Tabitha and brought her to my place instead of the other way around. We didn’t care though, as long as we were together. My mom called us both in, and went on her “I have to have pictures to remember this moment” thing. Everything seemed to be perfect.
Then it happened.
Bursting into my house, a man with a gun demanding that we all drop down to the floor. I peaked out of the window, and saw that he had already strangled the limousine driver to death. It was the most scared I had ever been in my entire life, but I knew what I had to do. I had to protect my mom and girlfriend, no mater what the cost.
As soon as I got the opportunity I rushed the man from behind, grabbing him as tight as I could. I quickly shouted at my mom to call 911, and get some help here ASAP. Tabitha grabbed the gun off the floor, and held it at the man. All of a sudden, the man broke free and made a charge for Tabitha. She panicked and pulled the trigger.
The gun was loaded with hollow tipped, nine-millimeter bullets. They tore straight through his stomach, and into my heart.
~~
And now I’m here. Dead, although I’m different than most dead people. Even after I died, my life had a purpose; one that I had no idea what it was. I have these strange… powers now that I can’t explain, nor do I understand. I just know that I can use them to help people in many different ways, and that is what I intend to do.
Although, it would be easier if they could actually see me.
____
this is actually a fic I started like, three years ago here. Decided to revive it based on current user's reactions.
I think its told quite well and really draws you into the story!
