Life and Death

"Please, it's not my time yet!"

People tell her that a lot.

But it is, and what can they do about that?

She's not who they think, though. They think she's Death, and she can't blame them for that.

No, she really can't blame them. She looks like what people must think Death looks like- dark, long cloak, sorrowed eyes- but she's quite the opposite, really.

When she comes for the people, the ones who beg for her to go, leave them for a few more years, she never knows what to say.

It's not as if she actually can say anything, though. She just wonders how to tell them no, you aren't going forever. It's not the end for you yet.

Yes, she didn't take them to the end- she took them back to the beginning, a chance to see it all again and do it over, until they get it right and then Death would take them, then they could go in peace.

It hurt whenever she met the young ones- the ones who don't see the futures they have ahead of them, the ones who beg for Death to come for them.

She tries to whisper a sorry to them when she sends them back, hoping this time around things just may be better. Gives them a squeeze instead of a brush.

Very often she'll meet those who are sleeping- who never see her, who won't get a chance to see this chance one last time. There will be more chances, though. There always are.

Only a few times has she arrived when death was there, too- she'd beg him to let them have another chance, but he'd just shake his head sadly and tell her that this would be more peaceful, they want this more.

Never once had she believed him.

Somedays, after she'd done all she could and finished up, she'd follow death around. In secret sometimes, yes, but other times she'd drift silently next to him, and he'd glance at her, dark umber skin stained in tears.

He didn't enjoy his job sometimes, that was apparent to her. She'd followed him to rooftops, where people would jump and he would catch them, unable to prevent his tears from falling.

Luckily for her, sometimes their jobs could be blessings. After a particularly hard day for Death, she'd gestured for him to follow her.

They were at a hospital, and she saw him clutch his stomach. She shook her head. There would be no death here right now. There had been enough of that.

So she led him to the maternity ward and his eyebrows were knitted, confused and wondering why they were here.

A woman laid on a hospital bed, 9 months pregnant and whispering to her stomach and begging to see her child.

The lady sees them now, and is crying softly. "Not the baby," she sniffles. "Please, please."

Death reaches forward, but quickly backs his hands away. He cannot touch a being without taking them to his After.

She shakes her head at the mother, softly swiping a hand on her stomach.

And now she's in labor, and Death is crying out of happiness now as they silently watch the doctors help the newborn and the mother.

"I wish I got to cause this joy," he says sonderly.

Oh, how she agrees. How she wishes she got to do this more often. She wants to tell him that, that her job isn't as beautiful and joyful as this.

Yet when she opens her mouth no words escape it, because Life does not need to give explanations, or apologies, Life needs to be silent and do her job.

"I wish you could talk to me, too." Death said, and they both were silent until they went in different directions and continued doing their jobs.

Life went on with her silent, sad living, and Death went on with his empty and painful one.

But she can only dream now, dream of a day when she gets a life too, a chance to restart too. She didn't want this! It wasn't her choice to be here, just her curse to live.

Millenia had passed since she had started this job, this prison, and she couldn't remember who she was Before, or if there even was a before.

Death had been with her the whole time, the two dancing around each other like sun and moon. At this point they both wanted a change- Life wanted Death and Death wanted Life.

There was no 'new start' for her life, and she knew that. Death knew that all he had was a new start. One day after she'd finally had enough, she found him in an abandoned warehouse in a misty town.

Silently she begged him for an After- begged him to lay a finger on her head and take her beyond- but he did not.

"If you go," he said hoarsely. "I will not have my chance to restart. It is better we suffer together.

And Life shakes her head, begging him to with glistening eyes and silent voice to do this to her, for her.

When he turns away to leave, to bring someone else to After, someone who isn't her, Life gives up.

His hand is in hers and he's glowing green. He will be starting soon, getting to try again. Death will not remember this life, but an inkling in the back of his mind would whisper to him when he got his choice again.

Maybe this time he would say no, and stop his life from becoming this.

When he realizes what's happening to him, where he's going, he uses his free hand to press a hand to Life's face. And now Life realizes that it's over for her too.

Tears run down both of their faces as they hold each other, waiting for the light to overtake them, and then it does.

Death is gone from her hands, and Life is gone from Death's.

Finally, just finally, Life is at peace.