Death

I’ve seen it all. People come and go all the time. It’s my job, I make it happen essentially. Rather, I’m getting kind of fed up with many of these people.

Like, Bob for example. Oh, Bob Rainsford. How I hate that man. He’s so idiotic at times, I always get called up to his house to see him with a dumb expression of, “Wait, that killed me?” as if it wouldn’t have killed him earlier. One time, he was in a rush and a piece of bread got stuck in the toaster. He then proceeded to get the toast out with a metal fork. I gave permission to resurrect him, looking like a false death (He lives alone with no witness around). I thought, he deserved the second life… then died later in the year to wasps when he knocked their nest down. It wasn’t even near his house, he was in a park. He’d greet me with a “Yo, Death” every time he sees me in the afterlife, at least act professional!

Though, my job is hard at times too. Lately, I’ve been dealing with a bunch of suicide victims. Some depressed for a lifetime, others simply want to forget instead of forgive something. Sadly, most times I can’t give them a second life. The most recent incident was this young teenage girl. I walked up to her, seeing her draping body in a noose tied to a tree branch. The ghostly girl was looking at her body, touching and falling through. “Hey.” I’d say to her, and she spun around to look at me.

She looked confused, but then started to cry. She got up and ran up to me, a huge hug with a sob. “I’m so sorry.” She’d mutter in my robe. She only hugged me tighter and wailed louder.

“Don’t be sorry to me.” I murmured back, “You know you will be dearly missed.” I felt her, pulling herself away from me and then look up to my face. Her face was streaming with tears, the most hope and emotion I have seen from her.

She kneeled to the ground as we looked at the limp body from the tree. “My family would actually miss me?” She’d ask, mumbling through her tears.

“100%” I replied. I held my hand out for her to grab, “Are you ready to go?”

She looked up with swollen teary eyes. “I can’t go back, can I?”

I felt a sudden heartbreak each time that happens. The people who want to go back, knowing full well that they were be sorely missed and cannot fathom a moment being gone. That’s what’s heartbreaking in my job. I can only shake my head and they’d grab my hand. This happens often. Especially lately in the 21st century. I think a year or two ago, I had a young teenage boy having family issues and had committed suicide. He was rather glad he escaped his life. I asked about his family, and all the good moments flooded back. He was sad, disappointed… but still willing to move on. I helped him out.

Sometimes my job is rather… painful to witness. Murders, shootings, the like… I am suddenly there during the scene to see a man stabbing a lady 43 times with a blunt kitchen knife. I’m horrified by it all, the lady’s ghost is too. Then… we just watch the man carry the dead corpse in his hands and sob. A pitiful “I’m sorry” is to be echoed, but the lady couldn’t bare to watch anything more. She took my hand and I helped her out. I can’t say I’ve dealt with a good fair share of these incidents, but I can’t say that I haven’t either. The trend seems to be increasing too, what a shame.

I get more stories to run through my head, some very interesting scenes too. Like those murders where the murder steals the victim’s eye or something, I find those people to be incredibly… interesting. Call me sadistic or psychotic for thinking so, I am Death.

In the end, I always return to work. I always come back to those who’ve fallen. War victims, those who die in a car accident, a tragic murder scene, a misfire, dumb deaths, animals dying and seeing their owners, everything in the like. People who can’t bare to move on, people who are willing to leave the old life behind, and those who are too greedy to accept anything that had just happened. I meet every kind of person. Paint me as the villain, or a hero, or a simple deity you cannot explain. I’m here to help you in the afterlife. Guide your way to Nirvana, or go to Heaven or Hell, reincarnate into something different, what have you. You always die in the end. It’s a lonely road to get into the afterlife, realizing everything that loved you or you once loved is gone… let me help guide you to a happier place.

I have more stories about all my death experiences… and those involved… I wanted to share a few with you. Though, in a diary such as this, I don’t think it matters who reads this. Give them a helping hand, Death, it’s rewarding for everyone to help move on.

Remember when you had died, remember that help that was offered… be like him. Okay, Death?

Start time: 4:05 PM 2/4/19

End time: 4:33 PM 2/4/19