Death Follows

The bench was cold, he sat there a familiar spark flowing through him. Soon he thought, there’s work here. The air was crisp and light, a beautiful autumn morning. The trees around him were dying. Oranges, yellows, and browns showing the familiar look and giving the familiar scent of decay. He couldn’t remember how he got there, like always, the job always started like this. Disorientated and confused, but this time of year was something he always felt a kinship with. The death, he understood more than anyone.

The lake across from where he sat shimmered from the morning sun. The intensity from the sun was something he missed dearly, there was nothing like the feel of the morning fall sun on your skin. For the first time in many years a feeling in his chest bloomed, one he thought to have died in him. It was longing. This lake was beautiful a trove in the middle of the country, it held wonders of nature and science alike. A gander sat protectively of his lake, the king of it all. He lifted his wings to showcase his plumage, showing off. The reeds and bullrushes along the side camouflaging the swans. He sits proudly, stoic a bird of pure magnificent. They would have only arrived in this country in the last 2 weeks, and already he dominated what was his.

The man would have forgotten the reason he was there in this lakeside, he would stay there forever pining for that sun and watching this Gander own this land. But work beaconed, he could feel it pulling him. Then the Man saw why he was there. At the lake edge a man, no, a boy stood, bewildered. Simultaneously a procession of teenagers began walking to the edge where the boy stood. It was never easy. The teenagers all wore black, some crying or red in the face. They held an assortment of flowers and photos.

The Man walked to the boy just as the boy reached out to touch a girl in the group of teenagers. As he did his hand became vapor and swirled around the girl.

“You can no longer touch them my friend” The man uttered. His voice soft.

“What” the boy’s face filled with fear and anguish.

“This was the fate you choose. Many before you have regretted it and most likely you will too. But dwelling will leave you stuck. Take my hand and I will show you out”. Information flooded the boy and recognition dawned on his soft face. He was so young the man thought.

“I remember” he stuttered out. As he did the procession of kids that had walked to the edge of the lake moved again. The boy in front placed flowers on the lake surface, they softly floated the water lapped from the disturbance. A girl then placed a framed photograph at the edge, the scene was peaceful. Soft sobs escaped some of the teenagers at the edge of the lake. They spoke no words. The silence of the lake was deafening, the buzz that usually accompanies a picturesque world like this fell silent. The only feeling around was grief. Even the Gander stayed quiet he understood the enormity of this moment for these teenagers. He respected it. The picture was of the boy. Smiling enigmatic and full of life, if The Man didn’t know any better, he would have thought a mistake was made. This boy in the frame was not one who wanted to die so desperately. But he did know better. He knew that the broken boy that stood before him, with the dark circles around his eyes and a sunken face had chosen death before death choose him. He had ripped away the life he had and now he stood battered before the Man.

“I can’t be here” The boy began the silence forever now broken. “You need to fix this” he said desperately.

The man looked at the boy solemnly, it never got any easier especially with one so young.

“There is no stopping this now my boy. You either come with me and I can show you somewhere safe. Or you stay and become the darkness that makes people fear in the night.” The Man put his arm out for the Boy. The boy looked defeated he understood.

“I understand” the boy claimed, “If I knew death would be so heartbreaking I would have stayed alive in that horrible life”. His lip quivered and the boy took the Mans arm.

“I’m Sean by the way” the boy said softly.

“I know who you are. Its time for you to take the last step into death”.

Arm in arm the boy and the man moved to the centre of the lake. It was the perfect day. A crisp fall morning, the insects buzzed into an orchestra of life as the sun cascaded onto the water. The light of the sun on the clear water burst and enveloped Sean and the man. The Swans who in the living world were mute, sang a beautiful song for Sean. A sound so soft and thrilling that a tear fell from his eye. This beautiful, melodic masterpiece sung to him by the beautiful creatures of the lake is what sends Sean within the light of the sun, where he now dwells and waits for those he loved.

And The Man is left to bear this news to more desperate beings. Forever in this in between, guiding the dead to a place of peace. It is a place The Man will never see. He takes a seat in the grass by the lake and pretends his breathes are real and that they are being filled with the crisp air of the morning. He pretends he can here the living sounds of the frog that hops beside him or that the swans were mute. He longs for the suns brisk hug; he pines for the lapping water to reach his feet. He even sometimes wishes for full death to take him. But it’s there he sits until the next job, in purgatory. A state not in the living and not in death. Longing for one of them to win but knowing neither ever will. Neither the living nor the dead can take him now he is no longer a part of them.