1201

Day 298079

Olivia is safe. But I cannot say the same for her health. She has been accepted from the admittance ward and given her own room. Unfortunately, she is unhappy. But the only thing I can do is assure her that the shock of what has happened will wear off eventually. It always does. Sadly, however, simply my presence pierces the most hardened hearts with a shard of ice drilled into their core. Their bones shake, and their bodies quake when I am near. So I prefer to leave them to their own devices before memories of my crimes catch up with my broken mind. And so I must do the same with Olivia.

But I still face my darkest of fears, and I wake up to check on and welcome the new members of our morbid club from a distance. Just to make sure they are okay. At least, to my standards. Which are quite low, to be honest. I do not expect them to be full of cheer, carrying bags of laughter and fun, giving free hugs like school girls and making daisy chains to adorn their creased foreheads. I do not expect a smile to crack their lips. Sadly.
The afterlife, as some might call it, is not a place most people enjoy, but for some rare exceptions. Most people are overcoming severe shock and in quite a suppressed mood, as is expected, after experiencing Death staring into your eyes. Since your closest loved ones are still alive, you would have no friends, in a place unknown to you, with no guidance and as insecure as the day you died. The afterlife does not have many exceptions.
I try to welcome the newbies with open arms. I try to comfort them and ease them into their new life. But their trauma is extreme and their distress is immense. I have a very hard time trying to help them. But eventually, unless they overcome the facts of their existence and circumstances, they will fall into a life of routine and emptiness, with eyes that stare blankly at walls and legs that carry them on well-worn paths. They follow, and oblige. They do not lead and they do not realise that their lives could be as interesting as their previous ones, if they just overcome their fear. But look who's talking. I certainly can't be telling them what to do. I live with my fear, and I have learnt to adapt with it. I have never overcome it, and I don't think I ever will.

Unlike humans, my fear is not of Death. That would be quite absurd. However, I have considered it. There are too many evils in this world, and I am likely fifty percent of the immoral and twisted villains that darken our world.
But I am procrastinating. I have realised that my fear is not of Death, but of life. I cannot bear the amount of lives I have destroyed, including my own. Their weight has been crushing me since I first accepted this job. And unfortunately, I cannot overcome this, like the poor souls who live an afterlife of emptiness. And so, I have learned to live with my fear. Because I cannot be rid of it, but nor can I accept it. To accept my crimes is a felony more serious than murder. I simply could not do it. And despite my previous mention of immoral criminals, I am not immoral. I could certainly not justify defying my own moral codes for a heinous act of injustice just because someone told me to. And that is a lot coming from me. Of course, one might argue that I have already done that, and please, don't remind me. Because you have no right to object against this statement, since you do not know what my own morals are. As I have said, once you have been stripped bare of humanity, you certainly cannot have the same morals as humans do. I know that for a fact. I am evil and repulsive and sickening and cursed, and I say so to myself every night. But I am also respectful, empathetic, loyal, and I try to have as good intentions as however possible. And although you may disagree, I am certainly not immoral. If I was, I could not live with myself. In the current circumstances of my desperate life, one may begin to wonder the immorality of my acts. But I can assure you, I am not as bad a person as one may think. Despite my job, I try to comfort the unfortunate as much as possible before they leave their previous lives. And I take no pride in saying this - but sometimes the truth is brutal - it is my fault. It always has been, and always will be. Unfortunately, I am sickening and I am evil. But however much you may curse me and call me irrelevant names, I am not immoral. I will strive to always obey my own moral code, for I'm sure it is different to yours. And although sometimes even my own morals are tested, I have managed to uphold the fact that I have never breached them. I barely live with myself as it is, but if I defy my very own moral codes, I would not survive. I can assure you. I have very definite lines of what is right and what is wrong, but trespassing those lines is worse a crime than what I have committed already. Believe me, I know. And although this does nothing to benefit my argument of morality, I once, a very, very, long time ago, breached that line. It was when I was very young, and I had just started this job. Afterwards, I ensured that I created my own moral code, documented and all, so that it would never happen again. And it never had.

od has seepe6ˎ.