I'm back, dear readers!

There isn't much I can say about my long absence without it sounding like some lame excuses, so I won't.

As you might have noticed, this isn't a true update. I have only edited the first chapter and decided to inform you that I'll try publishing the next one soon. Maybe this week or the next one.

However, I make no promises. School just started and I'm not sure if I'll have enough time to do it.

But fear not, I haven't given up on this story yet.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

Summary: I never thought that death would lead me from one hell to another. Self-Insert/OC-Insert

Have fun.

Until We Go Down

Chapter 1

Never Get To Heaven

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Where Death Stopped Knocking On Her Door

"There are two types of humans in this world: those who function so they can get something and those who function so they can give something."
― Sarah Noffke, Stunned

Edited on the 8th of February 2018. Perspective has been changed.

What did they do to deserve this?

That was a question many people frequently asked themselves. It was a question that humans kept asking themselves despite never finding a true answer, despite never truly wanting to find an answer. Who would? Nothing pleasant would come out of knowing the truth about oneself. Humans hated to be confronted with their biggest flaws and the answer to that question would certainly be one of them.

There were many flaws that Ella Smith had. Many mistakes that the girl had made in her admittedly short life. But which one of them led to this?

Was it the time when she was a little girl, visiting a toy store with her mother? She had found a plush toy there, a small bear that was more adorable than anything she had seen before. Back then Ella would have told anyone that it was love at first sight. Unfortunately, her mother did not want to waste money on another toy that would have been put underneath her bed a week later. Ella, not knowing how much of a crime it truly was, ended up taking the toy home with her and no one ever noticed.

It could have also been the time when she pushed little Mary-Louise. The other girl was always so happy; she had everything. Even the cute dog Ella had always wanted to have. Envy could be such an ugly, ugly thing.

Or maybe it was the time when she abandoned her own sister? Cowardice prompted Ella to turn her own back on her sister and to run. Instead of helping Hannah, the teenage girl left her behind. She would never forget the look of utter betrayal on her sister's face.

Greed, envy, selfishness, cowardice. Those were only a few of her own flaws.

But what did those truly mean? Which one was worth of this punishment? What did she do to deserve this?

It was only natural for humans to question everything around them. Even now, standing atop one of New York's tallest skyscrapers, she still continued questioning the punishment she knew was deserved.

With her many flaws came the one thing that made everyone ultimately human; guilt.

Ella was guilty of many things, and yet not many of them made her feel guilty.

Abandoning her elder sister for her own survival turned into her undoing. Sweet Hannah, only two years older than she was, died because of her weakness.

Each time she closed her eyes, Ella saw her sister's accusing face in front of her. She saw the bloodied nose she had received from one of those monsters and watched how the life was drained out of her body. In her dreams Ella watched her sister die and with every passing day she hated herself a little more

The girl just could not continue living like that.

(...And all those accusing stares. Why did they all stare at her? Why?...)

It wasn't her fault. She did not kill Hannah.

(...It was a lie. She died because of her...)

If she had stayed with her, both of them would have been dead. She could not have saved her sister.

(...Another lie. She could have saved her by sacrificing herself...)

Was it wrong of her to desire life? She hadn't wanted to die after only seventeen short years of life on this earth. All the time in the world would have never been enough, let alone less than two decades.

(...They should have been...)

A step closer to the edge. The city of New York was beautiful this time of the year. Christmas had always been her favorite holiday.

Another step.

As her legs were shook, Ella was painfully reminded of her fear of heights. Though, in truth, this fear meant nothing just about now. The girl just could not continue living like this.

Hated by everyone around her, she wouldn't be missed.

(...How come she believed those lies? Her mother would be devastated when she found out that...

...

...that her youngest child was dead. It would break her...)

She needed to do this. She needed to be punished.

(...Did she?...)

For Hannah, she would do this for Hannah, who died because her younger sister had left her alone in a dark, dark alley, surrounded by monsters.

The last step was easier than she thought it would be. Almost freeing.

The sharp wind caressed her skin. The colorful city lights blurred around her.

People screamed.

There wasn't much time left anymore. The concrete would be her salvation.

It had to be.

Ella Smith never knew when her life ended. One second she was there, falling from the sky, and then, so suddenly that it surprised even her, her body connected with the concrete and darkness enveloped her.

Her death wasn't slow or painful. If she had to describe it, then she would deem exhilarating to be most fitting. That experience was the closest she would ever get to truly flying. There weren't many things that could trump that.

It might have also been the large amount of adrenalin coursing through her body. Or the lack of air in her lungs. It was surprisingly hard to breathe in that situation.

Did that make her crazy? Being crazy would certainly explain her current situation.

She had died, of that she was sure. The teen was also sure that she should be in hell, heaven or even some kind of limbo.

Not here. She shouldn't be here. Never here.

She had died. And yet she was still here.

She was still alive.

This whole situation was wrong, so very wrong. This shouldn't have happened. She was meant to be punished, not be given a second chance.

(...She never considered the possibility of this being her punishment...)

After she had died, the girl had woken up in the body of a toddler. Did that mean that she had killed an innocent child? Had she forcefully shoved the previous inhabitant of this body out of it? Was she a murderer?

(...She was. She had killed her own sister...)

No, she wasn't. This was her body. It belonged to her.

Hazy memories of the time she spent in her new mother's womb danced across her mind. Those days she hadn't been really present. She was there and yet she wasn't.

Still, she could remember her new body slowly developing. Hearing, touch and sight came one after another and then she was reborn.

She was freezing. Where was she?

Why couldn't she breathe properly? Why were there so many people surrounding her?

Did she...did she survive the impact?

Oh god, please no.

Yes, she remembered. She had died and proceeded to be reborn.

Even though she couldn't tell how long she had been here, she knew that it had been a while. Her consciousness had been shoved into the back of her mind for as long as this new body wasn't strong and developed enough to be inhabited.

She had been trapped in a vegetative state for over a year. She had been there and yet she hadn't.

Ella knew that she wasn't in her normal when and where anymore as well. Her new mother—For more than a year she had taken care of the girl turned infant. Bathed her. Fed her. Talked to her.—seemed to be only fifteen years old.

She was young. Too young to be a mother.

But she was.

And then there was her new sperm donor. A horrid man who was at least twice as old as her new mother and liked his ale way too much.

It was only the three of them in their small hut. Magdalena, Aldwyn and Freya.

They had named her Freya. The meaning of that name was 'a noble woman'.

She was anything but noble.

Looking back on the first year of her new life, all seemed like a hazy dream. It was full of contradictions. Some would call those contradictions 'denial'.

But there was no need to talk about that. Freya was fine now.

(...A liar. That's what she was...)

The ceiling of her new room was bleak. She did not even have some kind of crib, only a pile of hay. The village she was now residing in seemed to belong to one of those medieval movies. From the looks of it, she had to be centuries in the past.

This was another thing to be added to her large and continuously growing heap of problems. She had died and then proceeded to be reborn centuries in the past. The people here spoke a language she did not know. Modern appliances didn't exist.

This was a nightmare.

What did she do to deserve this?