Song: Stop Asking Me to Come Back by James Arthur
"How terrible it is to love something that Death can touch" ~ Anonymous
Kate's Story:
There is but one thing in this world that scares me. One thing in this world that without-a-doubt scares me to no end. The sad part is that there's nothing I can do to stop it. Death is around every corner. Waiting patiently for each and every one of us. Death mocks us. Death is so cruel. Death loves to watch us suffer and live out our miserable lives. Death deserts us when we want it the most, yet comes to us in our most desperate times.
When we cling to the hope that Death will spare us just this once, He simply laughs in our face, all the while pointing a finger at us. He gets pleasure from our pain. It gives Him great satisfaction to watch the hope drain from our eyes. The cruel man.
Death scares me to no end. I have no control over it, and I want that control. I hate that I have to live on edge, constantly in fear of when or where Death will get me.
I know it's coming. My time is coming too soon. They say that when you start to see Him, you know the inevitable is not a matter of if, but when?
When I was fifteen years old, I started to see Him. Needless to say, Death was not one bit what I expected to see. A dark suite cloaked his frame. His collars raised to shield his stone cold neck. The shoes he wore were black leather dress shoes, yet it was a stretch to assume such since I never got close enough to take in His appearance. I never saw his face. Nor did I want too. I knew that if I ever locked eyes with him, he would take me. He would show no mercy. I didn't want to imagine looking into the eyes of Death because I did not want to see into the horrors of my life. I've heard that when you look into His eyes, you see your life. All the small bits and pieces of your life you thought were insignificant now seemed so important in that moment. Death was the last connection to your humanity before He took it away from you altogether. He made you remember the sinful things you've done in life. He forced you to look at your mistakes and your faults. All the things you've ever done and apologized for, he peeled your eyes opened so you wouldn't miss a single second.
When you got to the end of your life, of where you are now, it was as if you were staring into a mirror. And that's when he got you. When you saw yourself in His eyes. You see yourself for who you are, not for who you look like on the outside. When broken tears ran down your cheeks, He'd thrived off cracking you. It's what He does. It's what He lives for.
I was doing well, for the most part. I was dodging Death as if He were a bounty hunter and I was wanted for murder. There was a price on my head; a target on my back; a charge for my life. Escaping the clutches of death had become my new hobby. I was silently obsessing over the thought of running into Him. It wasn't intelligence that got me this far, it was luck and we both knew it. One day, each day, I fear my luck will run out. The next time I narrowly miss Death will be my last time. Or maybe there won't be another time at all. Maybe the next time will be my last time.
I couldn't understand why Death wanted me so bad. I was still young. Not even legally an adult and here He was, taunting me with his evil presence. The presence of Death was an eerily feeling. I knew where He was and when He was around because I could feel him. What a terrifying feeling it was to feel Death. He wrapped around you like a vice grip. He left your body cold and detached from the human world. It was almost as if he was preparing you. Letting you know what was to come in time. The feeling of Death made me sick to my stomach, however, in the most ironic of all things, it also left me with a sense of peace. A feeling I missed but no, no, no. I would not give into it. Death likes to play games. He likes to manipulate your emotions and toy with your feelings. It's all a lie. All apart of his game.
But why? Why did Death want me? I'm not supposed to die yet. I still have a life to live, don't I?
And so the game of cat and mouse continued. I dodged Death's awaiting arms, and He lurked around every corner. But it was becoming a rather tiresome chore. In moments, after I escaped I often found myself wondering why I was even running. The unfamiliar feeling of peace kept washing over me in his presence. No longer did I feel so cold and detached. Instead, there was a feeling of comfort that overwhelmed me, almost making me cave in on multiple occasions.
I wanted that feeling back so bad. I missed it, so. I knew I couldn't run from the inevitable forever, but I could try couldn't I? I deserved a chance at a good life. One where I was not so afraid. One where I could fall, but get right back up again to prove my success. I could fail countless times all for that one moment of success. I wanted that life. Not this one.
This night was different it seems. I was on edge more than usual. The streets were dark and deserted. The air chilly with bitter droplets of rain shooting down. As if God Himself were crying; mourning with the rest of the world. Because Death took thousands every day. What a cruel man.
But tonight, as I walked along the seemingly deserted street, up ahead did not seem so deserted. I realized I was not alone. There was a small figure in the distance, standing in the middle of the road. A small teddy bear in the child's left hand. They were staring out into the road, not moving a muscle. Confusion began to fill me.
What was this child doing in the middle of the road on a night like this?
And than, there was a sound. The loud, unmistakable sound of an oncoming vehicle. My breath hitched, my steps increasing in my pace. The child did not move. Panic started to settle in my veins. Adrenaline kicking into gear as I began to see the headlights of a semi-truck appear. Than, I started running.
"Move! Stop! No! Move! Get out of the way!" But the little girl would not move. Why wouldn't she move?
The semi was getting closer. Closer. No, no! I couldn't let her get hurt. I don't know what it was. Something was pulling me towards her. There was some instinct in me, telling, screaming at me to save her.
"No!" I dove, pushing the little girl from the middle of the road. A flash blinded me, and I braced my body for the pain. But instead of pain, I felt but a dull ache. I felt my body being moved, flying through the air, but that was all. I was flying; floating on a cloud of bliss. There was a blinding light still, and I slowly peeled one of my eyes open, ready to see the damage. But instead, I saw nothing of the sort.
In front of me, was the little girl. She looked at peace with her beautiful blonde curls falling just below her shoulders. Ocean blue eyes stared back at me. Her small lips stretched into this wondrous smile of content. She looked so beautiful. She deserved to live. She would live a good life. I knew she would. But why was she in front of me? She should be...
Suddenly, the little girl started changing. Her features morphing into pale white skin, her limbs growing, her hair shrinking. The little girl was leaving me. No, no please don't leave me.
I outstretched my hand, ready to take her. To hold her. To hug her. But as soon as my hand was close enough, ice cold fingers gripped onto mine. My body went numb. Every single one of my limbs began to stiffen. I could feel the life draining from my body.
I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as loud as I could, but I caught His gaze instead. My one fatal mistake. That cost me my life.
I was sucked into His world. My life flashed before in His eyes. They were a dark abyss. Darkness. Nothing but empty sockets void of all emotion. Than, there were flashes. Fragments of a life. A little girl playing with her parents. Holding their hands as they swung around to the tune of " Ring-around-the-rosy". Memories continuously playing out. The little girl began to grow. Her smile was wider, her hair longer, her happiness radiating. Than, there was a change in her. The night it all changed played out in front of her very eyes. She tries shutting her own eyes, not willing to see the events of that fateful night all over again, but Death would not let her cave. He wouldn't let her miss a second. And so she stared, watching the night unfold in little fragmented clips. In Death's eyes, she saw herself at fourteen years old. In an old, beat down car of an older man. She saw him lean in for just a small kiss. An innocent peck that turned out to be nothing but disastrous. In mere moments, the innocence that once bestowed her young, adolescent self was stripped away from her. The man snatched it away. Took what was rightfully hers. She couldn't tell if the world was blurring around her or if she was crying. Nevertheless, the torment continued. She saw herself months later, in the bathroom hunched over the toilet. She saw tears stream from her eyes at the results. She saw herself grow larger and larger. The disappointment in her parents' eyes which cut a permanent wedge in their relationship. And than, she saw her biggest regret. In the room, pained eyes with smudged makeup. Tired bags beneath her eyes, a baby girl wrapped in her arms. The moment the couple came in with happiness swelled in their chests. She could see it. The couple would take care of her little girl in a way she never could. And than, the clips stopped. Emptiness stared back at her.
Darkness enveloped her soul, Death's arms coming to wrap her in a gentle embrace. The feeling of euphoric peace began to bubble inside of me. Comfort. The feeling I missed.
Why did I ever run from this?
Death was above me. Around me. Caging me in and for the first time, I found myself allowing it. If this was what peace felt like I never wanted it to end. I saved a life. My little girl will live on and when her time comes, I'll meet with her. She'll tell me of all the wonders and all the dreams and accomplishments she'd achieved in life. All the years of her life that she outlived in mine. She'll be happy. And her happiness is all that truly matters.
"Come my, dearest. Eternal peace awaits you."
THE END