A Letter From Death.

Excellence Award in the 'The Text Generation 2014' competition

There are only two types of people that see me. Those who still have the innocence of childhood, who have an unlimited imagination and are blinded by outside beliefs. The other being those who only expect to see me when it is too late. There are many theories on what I actually look like, what happens when I take you, and where I take you. Some say I’m a hooded figure with a giant tool used for farming. Others say I’m split into two angels, one that takes you to heaven, and the other to hell. Usually I am seen as an evil figure, a destroyer of life, but what people don’t understand is that I don’t make the decisions on whether or not the life remains living. It is all up to the thing that is dying. They can choose to go when I offer, or stay, causing them to fade out of existence. I don’t always remember every person I take up, but those I do remember stay with me forever. I particularly remember this one boy, couldn’t have been more then 10 years old. He was so brave, battling with a brain tumour, and I already knew he wasn’t going to win, I asked him if he wanted to go, many times, over and over again, but he continually refused. I did tell him that it would be best if he did finally let me take him, but he refused. I then did something that I do not like to tell everybody, as I am quite shameful of it. This is the only time in which I had plucked someone from life and thrown him or her into the land of the dead. You see; if I do not pick them up in time, they do not get remembered, no gravestone, no funeral, they are gone, as if the spring breeze has swept through and scattered them until they are no more. Some examples of that would be in wartime. Sometimes I miss one or two people on my rounds and they simply fade, never to be remembered again. The elderly usually go on my first or second proposal, they understand what I do is hard. One in particular, Jean, she always called me Johnny. I would hear her call “Johnny! Johnny! I want to see you again!” Johnny was her son that went off in one of the World Wars, I forget which one, as many people died within the first half of that century. She would call out for me, until one day she finally exclaimed “I am ready for you to take me away, so I can dream of you for eternity!” Humans never stop to intrigue me. Always trying to find out who I am, what my intentions are, always trying to find new ways to evade death as well. Well, if there is anyone human who is reading this, I have something to say. Death will always come, one way or another.

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