THE BETTER PLACE-

YOU, ARE DEAD.

Angelina had opened her eyes. She winced at the overwhelming brightness of the room, with the pristine white walls basically attacking her eyes.

As she let her sensitive green eyes adjust, she looked around the room in a squint. She was sitting on a soft, yellow couch, along with the waiting table being made of a pretty varnished wood. Dozens upon dozens of books that she had never heard of lined the numerous shelves that graced the walls. Not only that, but the room smelled clean, in a chemical way, In fact, it was almost as if she was in a room that was a hybrid of a dentist's office and a library.

It felt numb. Not in a temperature way, however. It was as if nothing was supposed to happen in this room, and nothing would. Angelina furrowed her brows with a lack-master amount of effort. It was all she could bring herself to do in the moment.

"Where am I?" She muttered to herself. Her voice was gravelly, as if she had just woken up. She took the time to ask out to the un answering world, to look around the room yet again.

This room was far too nice to be for her. As her eyes opened entirely, she knew for sure that this wasn't her house.

She furrowed her eyebrows, as suddenly, her gaze had landed on a mural right in front of her. It was the only wall that wasn't a sickening color, and it read:

Welcome! Everything is fine.

The inspirational quote confused her, yet calmed her. It was almost like it was trying to use reverse psychology to make you feel otherwise.

"What is going on?" She mumbled. She quickly threw her head into her hands as she tried to think of the possibilities.

She tried to regain the last memory she had, but she couldn't. Maybe she blacked out? Maybe her mom found her and.... Oh! Was this a mental institute? That would explain one thing but, obviously, wouldn't explain why at all she was being sent to the loony bin.

As she was thinking hopelessly, she heard an opening door and a new voice.

"Angelina?"

She looked up from the position of her head in her hands. When she did so, she was faced with a tall, older man, who had a kind smile, and an interesting ensemble of clothing. He looked back at her, almost as if she wasn't what he was expecting, but he was pleasantly surprised.

"Come on in."

Angelina furrowed her eyebrows slightly, confused. How did she get here? Where was here, even?

She didn't want to keep the man waiting, however. He seemed too nice. Awkwardly, she stood up, smoothing out her top in the process.

The man waiting for her, and eventually held open the door, still keeping a kind smile on his slim face. She had a fleeting thought of the fact that he was oddly handsome, but that took a backseat as she took the chair right in front of his desk. Soon after, the man had sat down, and gave her one last warm smile.

"Hi, Angelina, I'm Michael. How are you doing today?" He asked. Angelina furrowed her eyebrows. After all, nobody had ever really asked her that question before.

"Oh, I'm... alright." She gave a curt smile, as she awkwardly tried to answer his very simple question. Michael didn't take offense. In fact, he was quite amused.

"Well that's wonderful." He chuckled. "However, I can see you're a little confused?" He added, to which Angelina didn't wasted time in nodding affirmatively.

"Right. So you, Angelina Teague—wonderful name by the way—are dead."

The word didn't rattle Angelina as much as it should've. After all, she had been awaiting it for years, she supposed it was about time to let it catch up to her.