Everyone does it. I mean, they die. I discovered this for myself on my seventeenth birthday, when I died in a terrible car accident on the night of the school prom. But it wasn't an accident. It was a carefully planned mowing, just a small detail in the battle between light reapers and dark ones, heaven and hell, choice and fate. Only I didn't die, like most dead people usually do. Thanks to one mistake, I was stuck, dead on the ground. The angel who failed to protect me and the amulet I stole from my killer are the only things keeping me from ending up where the dark reapers wanted me to be. That is, dead.