Death is My BFF Rewritten (Book 1 of the Rewritten Death Chronicles)

Chapter 33: The Boy Who Died: Part 2

            Little Faith frowned, confused. “So you got rid of yourself?”

            The boy looked down. “Yes,” he said shortly. “I don’t want to talk about this, Faith.”

            “You never call me Faith. You’re mad at me.”

            “I’m not mad.”

            “Yes you are! You get mad when I ask you questions. I can see it in your eyes, but not your face. You never look mad but your eyes get mad.”

            “I’m not mad.” Little Death’s hand rolled into a fist, but he quickly loosened his fingers and flattened his hand. “I’m a little mad,” he admitted.

“How did you get rid of yourself?”

            “It’s a long story, cupcake.” His tone was much gentler now, persuasive. “You would fall asleep.”

            “I won’t, I promise!” Little Faith bobbed up and down, excited. “Will you read it to me? Please, please read it! Please?”

            “It’s not a book.” Just like that, all of the emotion had drained from the boy’s voice. “It’s just a… tragedy, and it doesn’t have a happy ending. You would just feel bad for me, and I don’t want you to feel bad for me. I don’t want you to cry.”

“But you are so nice,” Little Faith said, growing sad. She reached for his hand, which was only slightly larger than hers. He seemed to want to pull away and went stiff in the shoulders. “You play dolls with me and eat my plastic donuts. Nice people have happy endings, and Daddy says everyone deserves a second chance…”

“You don’t understand, you’re too little to understand. I already got my second chance.”

Little Faith’s smile wavered. “Were you happy?”

“Stop with the happy shit,” the boy snapped. “I said, I don't want to talk about this."

“Bad word,” the girl whispered behind her hand, clearly afraid to say it any louder.

“Yeah, I said a bad word. I said it, and I'll say it again. Shit. Shit. Shit. What exactly are you going to do about it?”

Little Faith’s lip quivered.

“You’re going to cry. Of course you’re going to cry.”

“Why are you being mean to me?”

“Because I'm frustrated, Faith. I'm frustrated that you have it all, yet you’ll never see it. You’ll never see what I can see." He motioned to the room around them, laughing humorlessly. “You’re loved and cared for. If you weren’t, you’d be dead right now. People who have had a life like me are mean to people like you. You’ve had it all, and we’ve had nothing. You don’t know how lucky you really are to be able to cry. I never could cry when I was your age, or even have fun, or I’d get--” Death abruptly pulled his small hand out of hers, silent for a long time. “If my life had a happy ending, I wouldn’t be able to sit in front of you like this right now. I wouldn’t be able to show you what I looked like when I was twelve,” he confessed. “I can only take the form of things that I’ve destroyed...”

“I don’t get it—“ Little Faith started, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I killed myself,” he blurted, not saying anything after for a while. “That’s how the story ends for me. I kill myself. And then I get a second chance, and then I ruin it, and I become this. I’m not alive anymore, Faith. I haven’t been alive for a really long time. The boy that you’re looking at right now is dead.”

            Little Faith’s expression remained stoic, stuck between confusion and sadness. “This boy is dead?” she asked, starting to cry. “You’re dead?” She wiped at her eyes. “Am I dead?”

            “You’re not dead. Fuck, I didn't mean to traumatize you. I didn't mean to...” Little Death hung his head in his hands for a few moments, and then snapped his fingers, gaining the little girl’s complete and utter attention. “Forget what I just told you and what just occurred, up to the point that you first saw me as a twelve year old.”

Her expression momentarily went slack.

“Ooooh!” She grinned, her expression in awe as if she was seeing him for the first time again. “That was magical! You’re a little boy!”

The bedroom melted away from me, and I was left sitting sitting alone in that clearing of the corn maze where Little Faith once was, staring at the empty air in front of me. 

Bells jingled.