City of Souls

She walked down the street, unseen, untouched, unheard. But she saw everything, heard everything. And that was how it had been for as long as she remembered. 

It was a brilliant day outside, sunny, with little white wisps of clouds dotting the sky. She could see families heading down the street on the way to the nearby park. Sliding up behind a group of five, she watched the three kids run around their parents blowing bubbles with a smile on her face. She would follow their joy. After all, she was going to the park as well. 

As she stepped into the park behind the family, she became aware of eyes watching her. She turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Hey boss” said the familiar looking young man nervously. “Er, you’re here?” 

“Evidently,” she said, trying to keep the smirk off her face. 

“Can I ask why? I-I mean, one of us could probably handle this for you-”

“It’s a special one, kid.” She cut in, quietly. “I’ll attend to this personally.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and his face fell. Her eyes reflected his sorrow as he nodded and left. 

Turning back to the family, she followed them halfway across the park before leaving them, sending a warm parting smile to the children as she did so that they didn’t see. Feeling a brief pang of sadness, she set her sights on the old woman at the far corner, with a crowd of pigeons on one side and a crowd of children on the other. 

Settling down next to the children, she watched and listened to the old lady read them a story. Occasionally, she or the kids in front would reach into the large bag in front of her and toss some more breadcrumbs to the pigeons. The story she wove was beautiful and complex, a fairy tale of dragons and castles, knights and kings. She watched the children chatter to her, nudge and whisper among themselves, and wished she was able to join them. 

When the lady left, she was buried momentarily beneath the many hugs everyone gave her. She just watched with a sad smile on her face. She had forgotten what hugs felt like. As the lady walked out, she followed. 

Through the nice neighborhood to the park, to the broken roads far away, to the dingy alleyways down the river, she followed the lady. She watched as the street kids came up to her to get food, the bags of snacks with the lady emptying out rapidly. With kind words and smiles, she kept moving, until she got to one shack at the end of an alley of slums. 

They both ducked inside, to find a little girl huddled inside, her clothes torn, her little figure dirty, and bruises everywhere. She watched as the child was comforted, fed and read to, and then she perked up when she heard them speaking in low tones with each other. 

“Don’t stay here, child.”

“I have nowhere to go. He’ll kill me.”

“We’ll get you a safe place, away from him.” 

She listened attentively, sighing quietly when the child agreed to run away and meet the old lady under cover of darkness and go to the authorities. Daytime was no time to be running away, not in the slums, where there were no secrets. But the night, that was better. And the police? Better still. As they murmured to each other in the corner, as they hugged and comforted each other, she felt coldness wash through her heart. Her corner suddenly seemed very empty. 

Ironic, considering the never ending ruckus outside. 

When the sun began to set, the old lady went away, and then it was just her and the child. She scooted over to that corner, and wished she could touch her. They sat in companionable silence for a while until her father got home. 

She had seen many things in her years, but some never got any easier. She stifled her murderous rage as the child cried, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not yet. She watched over her as the father went to sleep, then followed her as she crept out of the shack just moments afterward. 

They ran. 

Somehow, they ended up in a carnival in a field. She knew the child knew where they were going, but they were both distracted by the rides, the colors, the noise and the people. They walked through the carnival, arms almost brushing, as she marveled at the sights. 

They came across a group of young girls, enjoying the carnival, with three adults, probably three of the parents, nearby. They watched as they got the little girls ice cream, as they squealed and giggled and clung to their fathers hands. 

She saw the child’s shoulders slump. 

She knew all too well how that felt. The need to comfort was almost overpowering. 

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked softly. 

The child couldn’t hear her but she sniffled. 

“Sometimes, the loneliest place is a crowd. There’s always someone there who makes you wonder how you’d be if things were different. If you had what they had.” Shaking her head, she turned to the young one. “Let’s just go,” she suggested gently, even as dread filled her. 

As if reacting to her, the little girl sniffed one last time, then set off on a purposeful walk, towards the house where she knew the lady would be waiting for her. The house where warmth, safety and security lay. Where there was no fear, pain, or hunger. 

They were just two streets away when they heard the footsteps. 

The child picked up speed, breaking into a run to reach the next street, but got blocked off by a man standing in the way. She looked back, terrified, to see another closing in on them. Just two streets away lay her safety. 

As the men jeered at her, the child closed her eyes, and a solitary tear traced its way down her cheek. 

Next to them, she almost couldn’t bear to watch, but knew she must. It was her duty. And soon, very soon, she could help. She could do something. 

After what seemed like an eternity later, the air was shattered by a scream ending in one last dying breath. And that was when she swooped in, grabbing the child and carrying her away. 

The little one looked around fearfully, but with a sort of wonder in her gaze. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” , a whisper came out, those big eyes staring at her, and her heart broke. “No child, it won’t hurt again.” 

“Who are you?” asked that sweet voice, and she closed her eyes before answering. “They call me death. I’m here to help you.”

And as the little girl moved on, into the light, the first expression of happiness and joy on her face that she had seen, she felt that cold feeling of silence and emptiness steal over her heart again. 

For who keeps death company?