Author: Mary Campbell
John was normal, stereotypical almost. He had short brown hair, and chocolate eyes. He stood at 5'11", and wore a gray suit to an eight to four job five days out of the week. He was in his early thirties, and lived with his long term girlfriend, and her daughter. John was anything but special; he was ordinary. John’s life was predictably boring, and remained that way until the day he died.
6:15 AM. The alarm sounds, the same as every day, except today would be the last time a high pitched buzzing would rouse John from his prescription induced slumber.
6:40 AM. John steps out of the shower, brushes his teeth, and nicks himself shaving; the first time he had done so in months, and the last time he ever would.
7:00 AM. Breakfast with the family. Eggs, bacon, and sausage. John loved his saturated fats; they would eventually be the death of him, had he not been destined to die today.
7:30 AM. John hastily ties his cheap tie that was a Father's Day gift, and kisses his stepdaughter on the forehead. She was unaware this was the last time she would see her father.
7:45 AM. John is making his daily commute to work. His red light turns green, and he goes.
7:46 AM. A driver who was texting speeds through their red light.
7:46 AM. The reckless driver slams into John’s driver side door, totaling his car, and bringing his uneventful life to a terribly typical end.
7:47 AM. John’s heart stops. There was a beautiful silence, the kind death always brings. It was as if time itself had stopped, special to his passing. After all the death I've seen, this phenomenon never ceases to amaze me.
John opens his eyes; the poor soul thinks he's still alive.
He chuckles as he exits his car, from nerves more than anything.
"I can't believe I'm okay." He says to himself, ignoring the ambivalent feeling in the back of his
mind.
Time is still unmoving.
7:47 AM. I step toward John, revealing myself.
"Hello, John."
He turns towards me, frightened, very obviously so.
"Wh...Who are you?" He stutters.
"I believe you know the answer to that question." I say calmly.
Ice runs through John’s veins as he sinks to his knees.
"You're the angel of death." He says quietly. "Aren't you?"
I nod. "That is one of my many names."
John begins to sob, taking shaky breaths, trying desperately to accept his reality.
"Please." He begins. "Please, I'm too young...I...I have a family."
I do not answer. John knows his fate is not negotiable; he does not need me to tell him.
"God!" He shrieks loudly, head in hands. "There's so much I haven't done! I wanted to see the
world!"
Still, I remain silent.
"Please..." He says to me again. "Is there nothing you can do?"
I debate silence again, but decide to answer John’s pleas.
"Tell me, John. Why should I take pity on you? Hundreds of people die every day."
John holds his head in his hands, shaking. "Just...please..."
"There is another option." I say after a moment of thought. "However, I doubt it will appeal to
you."
John’s eyes fill with hope. "Anything!" He exclaims.
"You see, my line of work takes me to all corners of the earth. This form also retains immortality, as I am neither alive nor dead, simply a bridge between the two."
I pause.
"But I am incredibly tired. So here is my proposition: I help you if you help me. You inherit my duties, and you will not be alive, but you will not die. You will be free to roam as you please."
John sits in shock. Clearly not expecting what I had offered.
"I...I don't know." He stammered. "I'm not sure I want immortality."
I shift impatiently. "Time is running out, John."
"Will I be able to see my family?"
"If you wish."
"Alright." He says while wiping the tears from his face. "Alright, I'll do it."
I smile. Finally, after centuries my burden shall be lifted.
"Be cautious, John." I warn. "As your touch does not bring comfort, it will bring death."
He nods fervently as I kneel before him. I take Johns hands, and relinquish myself to him, finally unburdened, finally free.
My eyes had been squeezed shut, afraid to look upon Death. Slowly, I opened my eyes as I felt his touch fade.
I was in my front yard. It was a normal day; the sounds of children playing in the distance, trees dancing in the light breeze. Had this all been a dream?
I scramble to my feet and run to the door, busting through, desperate for the sight of my girlfriend, and my daughter.
"Lori!" I feverishly shout. "Lori! Where are you?!"
And then I see her. I never appreciated her beauty. Fair blonde hair and delicate blue eyes. I want nothing more than to hold her in this moment.
But as she sees me, a smile does not flash across her face, nor does the slightest bit of happiness. She stares at me in horror.
"Lori, what's wrong?" I say in confusion.
She drops the laundry she's holding and backs away from me.
"No...No. You're dead." She's says in a hushed voice. "You've been dead for months."
"What?" I walk towards her, my arms outstretched. "Lori, I'm right here."
"NO!" She shrieks. "Get away from me! You're not real!"
Lori falls to her knees, sobbing, rocking back and forth. "You're not real." She says over and over. I stand there, dazed and confused. What did she mean I had been dead for months? I saw her just this morning, didn't I?
Just then, my stepdaughter came peering into the hallway, wearing her soccer uniform, and a bouncing red ponytail.
She freezes as she sees me. "Daddy?" She whispers.
"Hi, Becca." I say with tears in my eyes.
"Daddy!" She exclaims while running towards me.
Lori looks up, terror in her eyes. "Rebecca, no!"
I scoop her up and hold her tightly, appreciating her soft skin, and the tickle of her hair against my face.
Something isn't right. Lori is screaming, Rebecca isn't holding onto me anymore, she's gone limp.
I let go of her slowly, fear pumping through me.
Dear God, no.
Lori is screaming frantically, cursing me.
"Rebecca, no! Becca please wake up!" Tears are streaming down Loris face. Tears of loss, tears of agony, tears of more loss, and tears of hatred.
She turns to me, distraught and spewing venom. "Get the fuck out of my house! God! Haven't I been through enough?! Get out! GET OUT!"
Lori bends down over Rebecca, crying and begging her to come back, please come back. The world is going silent around me. What have I done? What is happening? Why is this happening to me?
Finally, pressure builds, and I collapse onto the ground screaming. I let go, I let the tears come. Emotion is pouring out of me like a faucet turned on high. I feel the loss of everything at once. My life will never be the same, I am alone, and I will always be alone.
When I open my eyes, I am no longer in my home. I am at the local park, now deserted. Not even the wind stirs movement.
I see him, sitting at the bench. Death.
Suddenly, my pain turns to rage.
I storm over to him, demanding answers.
"What the hell?!" I howl, my words mixing with sobs.
Death simply stands, and puts an understanding hand on my shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He says in his eerily cool voice. "I warned you, your touch would bring death to those around you."
"I...I didn't know..." I said in between tears.
"I am sorry." Death says to me. "Nothing is more tragic than the loss of a child. I understand."
In that brief moment, his voice was almost human. For the slightest second, I could see empathy in his eyes. But it went as quickly as it came, and he was ice again, cold and unfeeling.
"Speaking of which..." He says morosely, "I have to train you."
He turns from me, and begins to walk towards the pretty white town house that overlooks the park. Tom and Stacey, I recall. They're the young couple who lives there; they're new parents if I
remember correctly. I have no choice but to follow Death. So I do.
Everything was silent; it was stillness unlike any other felt in this world.
"What is this?" I wonder aloud.
Without turning, Death answers my question. "It happens when someone passes. All is halted; time itself pays it's respect to the departed. It's beautiful."
We enter the townhouse, and find ourselves in the nursery.
I turn to Death, and he nods.
"God, no. I can't." I plead with him.
"We do not make the rules, John. Simply carry out orders."
"I just...I can't. Tom and Stacey wanted a baby for so long. I can't take him from them."
To my surprise, Death becomes angry. "We do not choose the details of life and death, John!" He yells at me. "We carry out the law that is delivered to us! If we do not, there are repercussions!"
I stare at him, shocked. I didn't expect any emotion from him. He continues.
"Do you know what will happen if you do not take that child?" Death points to the corner store half a block away from the home. "That store is going to be robbed in 20 minutes. If this child remains, Tom will enter that store, and be shot trying to stop the robbery. Stacey will be driven to suicide, and that child will be left an orphan!"
I stare at the floor, still silent.
"You carry out the law! You do not make choices! You are not God!" He bellows.
"I understand." I whisper.
I look into the crib, into the bright, smiling, blue eyes looking up at me. I close my eyes; I reach down, touch the child on the forehead, and feel his life drain away.
Many years have passed, I can't say exactly how many, I've lost count. At least a century has passed since I first accepted this burden.
I have been to all corners of this earth, and seen countless deaths. I have watched my loved ones fade away through the years, actually being the one who has to steal their life. I am alone in this life, and I always will be.
5:03 AM. I walk the streets of Rome right before sunrise. I've been to Italy millions of times; the beauty has faded. I wish for nothing more than the ordinary.
5:15 AM. Adrian De Pietro, a sickly young man lies in his warm bed, sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, this would be the last time he would enjoy a morning in bed.
5:45 AM. Daylight breaks, a beautiful mixture of blues and oranges cascading down on the city.
The last sunrise Adrian would experience.
5:50 AM. Adrian's weak heart gives out, and I welcome the silence.
5:50 AM. Time halts for Adrian, tipping its hat to the dearly departed. The stillness of Rome is captured as if we existed within a painting. The silence is the only beauty I find in this world anymore.
5:50 AM. I greet the boy. "Hello, Adrian."
He turns his head to look at me, and immediately tears well up in his eyes.
"You're here to take me aren't you?"
I simply nod.
Adrian begins to shake, afraid of the unknown. "I knew I was going to die." He whispers. "But now that it's time, I don't want to go."
"Death is a part of life, Adrian. It is inevitable."
"But I haven't lived. Not really." He says, trying not to cry. "I never had the chance to…I don’t
want to go."
I pause for a moment in thought, and smile, taking Adrian’s hand in mine.
"There is another option."
