I Am Haunted By Humans

• Amy Lafferty, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2011

There’s no word for it. The way the air smells after a long storm. It’s a tragedy of the English language, and for that we should be ashamed.
The rain has slowed to a trickle, a teasing dance on my skin. The ground beneath my feet is soft, but unpleasantly so, often sinking so that I lose my stepping. I see him sitting at a table before me, a dark hood covering his face. The table itself is made of a pale blue marble, with spirals of white like veins twisting through the stone, giving it look of clouds on a bright blue sky. A chair is placed before the table, obviously meant for me.
“We must stop meeting like this,” I smile as I take a seat, my hand shaking as I extend it forward.
I receive no reply, only a gesture towards the table before me at the glass chess set, which I had not noticed before. I move the knight forward, my favourite piece because of its ability to be unpredictable, a favoured trait of mine. He moves the pawn in front of the queen, and sits back in his chair. I cannot see his face, but I feel a pair of eyes rested upon my face.
“It’s not as unpredictable as you think,” a deep, silky voice omits from the hood.
“Neither is your clothing, but you do not hear any complaints from me,” I grumble; it’s terribly unfair to play chess with someone who can read your mind.
I hear a soft chuckle and know that today is not a day to argue. Today is the day he will be gentle. I have met Death three times before this and three times I have denied him my life. The first was in a hospital room, where I knew nothing and had nothing; aside from the fact that I did not want to come with the man in black. The second was on a battlefield fighting for a mad man who wanted to see the world burn; he was there, carrying the souls of my brothers and comrades, he came for me and all I could croak out was “not today”. The third time was in my bedroom, where my left arm pained me greatly and my heart muscle began to die – there he was again, and I felt his gentle hand on my forehead, before an electric shock to my heart drove me back into harsh reality. I feel no shock this time, and know that I will not feel one.
“Today?” I ask, knowing the answer.
“Indeed, child of the Earth, it is your time,” Death sounded tired, as if he was tired of explaining fate to mortals.
He leaned forward, and the darkness, the sweet and warm darkness, took me.