I'm dead. Everyone is dead around here. Everyone accepts it. Except me.

My name is Jacqueline Carter. I am seventeen years old. But it's not like anyone is going to read this, and even if anyone does, they won't even care. Because no knows what happened. No one even knows what happened after I 'died'.

All of the crazy is just building up. Until it is no longer considered crazy.

It's normal.

Cringe.

You know what, I'm getting a little ahead of myself. I blame my dramatic attitude and YA.

You need to know how everything began. But first, I need to tell you the reason why this happened. At least what I think.

I died way too soon. I hadn't even got my first kiss, never mind a boyfriend. I just had to die on the day I was most likely going to.

Actually, only likely to. Maybe. Not

On that day I went to a party right before my 18th birthday. My best friend Katherine forced me to go. All she told me was that it was going to fun. Little did she know, I was going to end up dead.

Or did I? Dun dun dunnnn jk

Maybe.