You know that feeling you get after you've been doused in ice cold water and for just a few seconds it feels like you've been frozen in a glacier or something like that?

That was the feeling I got as I stared up into the dark, fathomless eyes of the eerily creepy guy who'd just announced that he was Death itself.

And, of course, being a sixteen year old girl, my first reaction was to promptly scream my head off, but something kept me from doing just that. It was as if all I could really do was lean backwards and stare up at the guy with a completely horrified look on my face, frozen to the spot.

"Uh...right, okay," I stuttered, my teeth starting to chatter in the cold night air. "Clearly you're smoking something other than tobacco in that cigarette."

The guy who called himself Death burst out laughing, like what I'd just said was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "I knew it'd be a hell of a ride, getting you to believe me, Hadley Jamison. You're really rather an unsual girl. Most people would be screaming their heads off and running in the opposite direction by now."

"Give me half a chance and I will," I fired back, my eyes narrowing.

Death chucked his cigarette on the sidewalk and ground it out with the toe of a leather boot, still chuckling under his breath. "Let's chat over a cup of tea, shall we, Hadley Jamison? We have a lot to discuss."

Before I could even loudly refuse that I wasn't going anywhere with the creep, Death had a tight, bony grip on my shoulder and was leading me right into the flow of traffic in the middle of the street.

"What are you, crazy?!" I shrieked, going into full-out panic mode. "You're going to get me killed!"

"Oh, do be quiet," Death sighed, acting as if the weight of the world was resting upon his shoulders. "I know when you're going to die, and it's not anytime soon."

Oh, right. This guy was "death", wasn't he?

I was going to consider it a lucky coincidence that we happened to not get runover by all of the freaking cars flying down the roads that New York City held. Even so, I breathed a little easier once we were on the sidewalk again, mixing into the jumble of people crowding around like always.

I kept my arms crossed tightly over my chest as we walked, glaring up at Death with my eyes narrowed. I had no idea where we were going, but I was feeling very put out, and clearly Death knew that, as well.

We'd walked nearly two blocks over before Death stopped abruptly outside a small, rundown yet still sort of cozy Chinese restaurant that was decorated in a usual oriental style.

"This place looks nice, doesn't it?" Death asked cheerily with a whistle.

I couldn't even respond before he reached out, yanked the door open, and ushered me none too gently inside. A little old lady with glasses perched on the end of her nose lead us to a small square table off to the corner that just so happened to be beneath a row of brightly lit paper lanterns.

Great.

I moodily dropped into my seat and crossed my arms tightly over my chest again, still glaring away at Death. The old lady kept shooting furtive glances in my direction while she tried to hand us our menus.

I couldn't exactly blame her for that one.

Death looked significantly creepier in brighter light. His midnight black hair held a glossy sheen and his face was so pale it looked like he was terminally ill.

"Just a pot of tea, please," Death said, waving away the old woman and her menus.

She nodded vigorously before disappearing from sight. I really wished I could do the same thing, too.

"Now, where were we?" Death asked pleasantly, folding his hands together on the table in front of him.

"You were just kidnapping me," I replied in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Death snorted. "Very funny, Hadley Jamison."

I was about to reply, but my words fell short as Death started drumming his fingers on the table in a rather bored manner. There were black symbols tattooed across his fingers that covered nearly every inch of his skin. I would've assumed that he had even more tattoos if he hadn't been wearing his ridiculous leather jacket.

"Now what do you want?" I stammered, trying to cover my unease with bravado.

"I'm going to offer you a deal, Hadley Jamison," Death sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Concerning?" I hinted, arching an eyebrow.

"Archer Morales."

My heart started pounding erratically against my chest and my eyes were already burning with unshed tears. This was what Death wanted to talk about?

Archer?

Why the hell did Death need to talk to me about Archer Morales?

"W-W-Why do y-you need to...Archer?" I demanded, trying to keep my lips from trembling.

"I'm going to offer you the chance to do something, Hadley Jamison. But please understand that what I'm about to face you with is not to be taken lightly at all. This might well possibly be the hardest thing you're ever going to do."

Well, this certainly didn't sound promising.

Death was about to further explain what was going on, but the old woman from before returned to our table with our pot of tea and two small cups. Her hands were shaking slightly as she set our cups down and she still looked beyond nervous.

"Thank you," I said, smiling as warmly as I could.

She nodded with a shaky smile before leaving our table again.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, pouring myself a cup of steaming tea.

"If you choose to accept," Death began in a gravely serious voice. "I am going to send you back 27 days in time. And within those 27 days, you have to stop Archer Morales from comitting suicide."

I spat out the sip of tea I'd just taken and stared at Death like he'd just asked me if I could perform witchcraft or something.

"Excuse me?" I croaked, grappling around for a napkin on the table. "You want me to do what?"

"I believe you heard me correctly, Hadley," Death sighed, a cross looking coming over his face.

"You've got to be joking!" I all but shrieked, slamming my tea cup down on the table. "I know you're already insane, but this...this is taking it to an entirely new level!"

Death arched an elegant black eyebrow, his thin lips pursed in an unpleasant expression. "You mean to say that you don't want to save Archer?"

"Don't talk about him!"

He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look coming across his face.

I didn't know when I'd gotten to my feet, or when I'd clenched my fists either, but now I was leaning across the table with a furiously angry look on my face.

"That told me everything I needed to know," Death smirked, drumming his fingers on the table again.

I dropped back into my seat with a heavy sigh, glarring daggers across the table at him.

"You want me to go back in time and save Archer?" I repeated for confirmation, taking a deep breath.

Death nodded, looking pleased with himself. "That's right, Hadley Jamison."

Death had to be kidding. There was no way in hell that this could actually be possible. There was no way in hell that this could actually be the truth.

He had to be kidding.

"Why?" I demanded, gnawing nervously on my lip.

Death shrugged an indifferent shoulder, examining his long, spindly tattooed fingers. "You just seemed right for the job."

"That's not funny!" I barked, slamming a fist down on the table. "If I'm going to do this, I need to know why."

"Oh, I already know you're going to do it," he replied, smirking in that uber creepy way again. "And I can't exactly tell you the reason why. That's not up for discussion. But if you succeed, however...well, we'll probably be having another discussion like this one."

"But how am I - "

"Going to succeed?" Death supplied for me. "I can't tell you that. That's something you're going to have to figure out on your own."

So, Death wanted to send me back 27 days in time to keep Archer Morales from killing himself. But how on Earth was I going to do that?

"Why 27 days?" I asked against my better judgement.

"Because," Death replied in a nochalant manner. "It took Archer Morales 27 days to decide how to kill himself."

I sipped convulsively at my tea, gripping my cup so tightly it wouldn't have surprised me if it shattered in my hands.

How the hell was I supposed to do this?

I could barely pass geometry class on my own, let alone save a person's life.

There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to save Archer Morales. I was just worried that I was going to fail at this.

What was going to happen if I failed? I had a sneaking suspicion that I didn't really want to think about that.

But I had to ask, right?

"And if...if I don't succeed?" I asked Death hesitantly, feeling like I was about to burst into tears.

Death took a sip of his own cup of tea, an indefinable look in his dark eyes that I didn't really want to know was about.

"You really don't want the answer to that, Hadley Jamison. Trust me."

Now, don't get me wrong - I wanted to do this. I wanted to save Archer. But there was this nagging thought in the back of my mind that kept me freaking out about failing.

What if I wasn't able to save Archer? Then what would happen?

As I was internally freaking out about all of this, I suddenly remembered Regina Morales and how she had completely broke down at the cathedral only hours before, sobbing into her hands, because of her son.

That was what ultimately made my desicion for me.

I had to do this.

There was no doubt in my mind now.

I downed the rest of my tea in one swallow and set my cup back down on the table.

"I'll do it," I said before I could stop myself.

Death gave a short nod, rubbing a hand across his jaw in thought. "All right."

I swallowed hard, glancing nervously at him.

"So what do I do now?" I asked, brushing back a strand of my hair from my face.

Death leaned forward on his elbows, reaching out to run his bony tattooed fingers through the flame of a slowly burning candle set off to the side on the table.

"All in good time, Hadley Jamison."

That was all I remembered before I was falling through this endless pit of fathomless darkness and then nothing at all.

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