Here is my newest story. I'm not really sure where I'm heading with it.

The perspective (narrator) might change in the next chapter. This was more of an experiment.

Please leave a review.

Summary: Amelia Babineaux died in a sea of wine, as a daughter of Dionysus she lived again. Self-Insert/OC-Insert

Have fun.

Chapter 1

Prologue

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Where She Confirmed A Theory

Let it be said, safety rules were there for a reason.

Amelia knew that now.

When her secret crush took her out for a ride with his new car, the young girl should have listened to the quiet voice that told her to fasten her seatbelt. But it just seemed so 'uncool' at that time.

She really liked Joshua and did not want to make a bad first impression.

The price she payed wasn't worth any impression she might have made if the evening had ended differently. But how could she have known that something like this would happen? That the truck would swerve into their road and collide with the new car.

She flew out of the windshield like a rag doll, hundreds of sharp glass shards embedding themselves into her skin. It hurt but was nothing compared to the pain she felt upon contact with the asphalt.

For a moment the girl blacked out.

Only to awaken to a pain she had never felt before. Amelia couldn't even pinpoint it.

Everything hurt.

She could feel some kind of fluid touching her skin. There was too much glass around her for it to come only out of Joshua's car.

The sweet smell of grape penetrated the air.

Her thoughts wandered to the fact that the truck's driver must have been transporting wine. Lots and lots of wine.

And then the sixteen years old girl felt the burning sensation the fluid's touch brought her.

A strangled cry escaped her bloody lips.

It hurt, it hurt so much.

Her eyes strained to stay open. Snow was falling from the clouded sky. Beautiful white flakes that touched and soothed her burning skin.

Had Amelia looked down, she would have seen a rib sticking out of her flesh.

The wine reminded the girl of her grandmother's grape garden. Filled with hundreds of different colored grapes.

She loved their taste.

Salty tears mixed with the blood on her cheek. Amelia knew she would die.

There were people gathering around her. Joshua wasn't among them. Was he already dead?

Someone might have been touching her, but no matter how much Amelia tried to focus, she just couldn't feel it.

Why was she so cold? Because of the snow?

An almost magical garden flashed before her eyes. A small smile made its way on her face.

How could something so tragic be so beautiful?

Amelia Babineaux died in a sea of wine, the familiar smell surrounding her only a small comfort in the face of her very own tragedy.

It did not take her long to figure out what had happened.

A drunk truck driver had collided with a car. A car she had been inside of. Like a rag doll she flew out of the windshield and most likely broke every bone in her body.

Amelia had died.

But she did not stay dead. No, apparently she couldn't even die the right way.

Rebirth. Reincarnation.

The Buddhists really knew what they were talking about. She was the living proof for that.

Instead of staying dead, Amelia Babineaux proceeded to be reborn.

For a moment the girl wondered if the same thing had happened to Joshua. She hoped not. It was enough that one of them ended up being punished. Amelia wouldn't wish this whole thing even on her worst enemy.

Being reborn was terrifying.

The world around her just a blur. A language so unfamiliar spoken by the only other present person. Her new mother no comfort at all.

How could a nineteen years old girl comfort her wailing child when she was completely alone during the birthing process and still had to deliver the placenta.

The young mother had been in so much pain.

It was nothing compared to what Amelia felt while she was dying.

Horrified beyond belief, Amelia had laid next to the screaming woman. Her eyes and ears crippled and body unmovable.

She had wanted to die once again.

The girl fell unconscious, her new body too weak to stay awake through her emotional turmoil.

If only she hadn't woken up again.

But she did and so did the woman who gave birth to her.

A teenager overwhelmed with the role thrust upon her. This applied to them both.

Amelia Babineaux never asked for a second chance, neither did Alda Einarsdóttir ever plan to get pregnant.

With no family of her own and the child's father unavailable, Alda could only rely on herself. The problem was that the young girl just wasn't ready to take on such a responsibility. To care for another human being.

This was a disaster in the making.

Alda never wanted to be a mother. And she just couldn't be one.

Thus the teenage girl committed the biggest crime of her life. Three days after giving birth to her sweet daughter, she took the child to the heart of Reykjavík. The darkness of the night worked in her favor, hiding them both in its shadows.

There weren't many people outside. It was far too cold to even consider going out for walk and most of the shops had been already closed anyway.

Each of Alda's breaths could be seen in the air in form of small puffs. Her body was trembling. Was it from the cold or fear?

The tiny child in her arms was watching her with an almost accusing stare. But no infant could ever understand what she was about to do.

Could she?

No, of course not. Those violet eyes she had inherited from her father were full of innocence. Slightly chubby cheeks red from the cold and a wisp of her own platinum blonde hair adorned the infant's head.

Alda's resolve almost broke. Almost.

The duo arrived at an abandoned alley. This was it. This was the end.

The teenage girl found a mostly dry spot behind a pair of large trash bins. Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks as she placed her small daughter on that spot. Her hands did not want to let go of the thick blanket that was wrapped around the infant.

''I...I have to do this. There is no other way.'' Alda mumbled. More tears followed. ''I'm sorry. I'm so sorry my sweet Diana. This is for the best.''

And she continued telling herself that one sentence while she left the alley. Each step more confident than the other.

Alda Einarsdóttir believed her own well crafted lie. What she did was a mercy.

As a demigod her daughter had no happy future before her. All the pain she would have experienced was stopped even before it begun.

Alda was Diana's savior.

(She never forgot the way her daughter's eyes widened when she put her down upon that cold, cold ground.

Because deep down Alda knew she was no savior.

She had murdered her own child.)

In the darkness Diana screamed.