Again (Nanatsu no Taizai fanfiction)

Chapter 1

I was 17, almost 18, when I died.

I'm going to tell you the story, but I think, first, you need some background information.

My name was Andrea Violet Holt, but I went by Andy Holt. And that's the name everyone knew me by.

"That Andy Holt," they used to grumble, shaking their heads and/or their fists; "quite a troublemaker. She's always gettin' intah trouble. Why, if I were her mah/pah, I'd slap 'er silly."

But my parents didn't; they never laid a hand on me with the intent of violence or cruelty. My parents loved me, they loved me lots. And my mischief? Well, they found it hilarious.

Guess you could say I was a troublemaker. Personally, I'd say I'm just mischievous and love to create trouble for anybody and everybody who had it better than I did, which wasn't a difficult feat; my pah didn't love my mah very much, and although he loved me, he didn't know how to show it. Mah and pah were only together so I could have the benefits of having two parents; but they always fought and they couldn't agree on anything. I had no siblings; they never slept together again after me, and I knew they had only gotten together because they were drunk and stayed together because mah got pregnant with me. I had nobody to talk to about anything, so I turned to mischief and pranks.

So most everybody in the town hated me.

But that was how I met my best friend, Dixie. Through some trouble.

There was a man living in town. An ill-tempered, cruel man who acted like he was better than everybody - but especially better than me and my mah and pah. So I decided I was going to cut him down to size, with the help of a large bucket full of mountain run-off water from a nearby river two miles to the North and a door.

But Dixie walked through the door instead, getting covered in water. Of course, I didn't know it was Dixie at the time; she was just an innocent girl my age who had gotten caught in a prank not meant for her. Contrary to popular belief, I did, in fact, have manners; I just chose to use them with people who deserved the kindness.

So I raced over to Dixie and apologized to her. To my surprise, she just laughed it off and asked me, in a thick Southern drawl like everybody else but with a strange twist that I would later discover was a Boston accent, if I would mind giving a complete stranger access to a warm shower and lending 'er some clothes. I said I wouldn't mind and took her into my room. I let her take a shower and gave her some of my clothes - baggy sweats and a loose fitting T-shirt.

Later, she came down, and the two of us bonded over two cups of coffee made with well-roasted coffee beans and vanilla flavoring my mah made for us.

We'd been best friends ever since.

 She was even there for me when I got sick. She was there to say good-bye to me when I died. Dixie was one of the most important people in my life.

One day, when she and I were messing around in a creek that connects to the river, we were swimmin'. The water was really cold, and I was shiverin' badly. I started coughin' for no reason, and I ended up coughin' up blood.

Dixie called mah and pah, and all of them rushed me to the hospital. The doctors took me in for some testing, 'cause by then I'd stopped coughin' up blood. And the doctors diagnosed me with leukemia.

Mah had asked if they could do surgery or chemo or something', just somethin' to save "'er baby girl".

They said no; there was nothing they could do. The leukemia was in its fourth stage, the final stage. It had spread to my legs, arms, and lungs. It was only a matter of months until it spread to my heart and brain and killed me. I was going to die. They knew it.

I was hospitalized and kept in a bed.

The months crept by, and I lost weight. I became like a skeleton, with wispy blonde hair. My cheeks were sunken in, gaunt, and my muscles had dissolved. I wouldn't eat; I wouldn't drink. I would just stare out of the window at the mountains in the distance. They had to hook me up to an IV to give me nutrients and water to keep me alive.

The visits for me slowed to a trickle, and eventually the only ones visiting were my mah, pah, and Dixie. And even those visits were sparse and few and far between. I think people were scared to see me die; they knew that I was dying right before their eyes, and they couldn't handle it. It terrified them.

I knew that I was going to die soon, but before I was ready to die, I wanted to visit the creek where it had all begun. I begged and I begged until, eventually, the doctors decided to let me go. I visited and stayed for about two or three hours.

Then I returned to the hospital and stayed there for another four days. After the four days, I went to sleep and I didn't wake up.

I knew I died.

So imagine my surprise when I woke up.