Title: Meeting death
by Jodie from South Yorkshire | in writing, fiction
I lay there, steadily. I was alert, I was vigilant. I lay there, listening, to the gentle, soothing sound of my beating heart, and the cool, silent caress of my breath. The comforting sensation invited me to rest and the gentle beat lulled me to sleep. Sleep seemed so reassuring. So I lay there, and I slept.
I gradually, eased my heavy eyes open. I was no longer aware of what was around me, or where I was. I was faint, faded. My sight was dim, there was a blinding light. I strained my eyes, striving to gain sight of where I was.
The light faded and I glance in front of me. Death stood in front of me. I had wondered what it would be like to meet Death. But I wasn't dead? Was I? I didn't feel dead, but what did it feel like to be dead? I felt distant, and tired. But was that how it felt to be dead? Death wasn't a skeleton in an extensive hooded cloak, carrying a scythe, but he wasn't human. Was this how death really looked? His true form? Did he even have a gender? Death was beautiful in a way. Each aspect of his figure was perfect. His skin glistened and his eyes were a striking colour of deep, profound green, more beautiful than any jewel. They swirled and waved like the sea, his eyes were so inviting and warm. He was staring directly at me. I felt insignificant in his presence. I could not take my eyes away from his gaze. I wasn't afraid.
'What did you want?' Death asked. His voice was deep, soft and sly. He smiled. I could not help but think that he already knew. He stared at me, basking in my thoughts.
'I wanted to ask you some questions' I said, trying not to show how afraid I was.
His face was inches from mine when he whispered in a husk, crisp voice, 'Ask away'.
I clenched my fists, I was burning with rage. I froze, as I dared not to move. I was furious and I yelled, 'Why do you do it?'
'Do what?' he asked, with and eerie, echoing laugh.
'Kill people!' I roared. 'You merciless, monster.'
His eyes tightened before he answered me. 'I don't kill people.'
His easy remorse made a surge of anger build up inside of me.
'Obviously, you do!' I bellowed.'You've stolen the lives of everyone I have loved or cared about.' The tears built up in my eyes and poured down my cheeks carelessly. I bit my lip and swallowed back tears, trying to hide my fury.
'Or have I?'
He laughed, like this was some kind of sick, twisted joke. I stared at him. I was overwhelmed with pain, grief, sadness. He had no emotion. He stopped laughing and returned to his relaxed pose.
'I don't kill, I am not a murderer.'
'Then who does?'
'Don't be ridiculous,' Death said a look of compassion in his eyes. 'You do'.
The voice seeped to creep up behind me as it echoed through my mind.
'I do?' I gasped. How could Death call me a murderer?
'My job isn't to kill people,' explained Death. 'It is my job to take their souls when their lives are over.'
My eyes searched frantically for death, he seemed to have departed, disappeared even though I could still hear his deep, sullen voice.
'People make choices, I can't make them. I am just Death. I am not a thing, or a person. I have been here since there has been life, and I shall always be here. I just am.'
'I just am'. The words echoed until my tears dried. 'I just am'
Death re-emerged and stood beside me. I looked once more in to his beautiful face. How could such a beautiful creature create such a terrible thing? I gazed into Death's eyes and I saw a sign of pain and age in his judgement.
'It is one of the sad facts of life,' said Death. 'I can't be avoided.'
With that he vanished and left me alone, confused and I didn't understand. Was a heartless killer? I did not know. Which is when I realised, I didn't want to know.
Inspired by another story but re-written thanks Credits: Inspired by another story death
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