He's not like I thought he would be; sinister, creepy, and way too in love with his job. Meeting Death is one of those experiences that only comes at that one certain time in your life. You never meet him before that time and once you do, you never forget it. I've met many people over my life that feared Death, they feared "oblivion" as they liked to call it. But they've never met him, there is no such thing as oblivion so they don't have anything to fear. Of course, they don't know that, if they did then they would be dead.
Death, I have found, is more scared of humans than we are of him. Although it's more likely that he hates us; not necessarily us but what we do to each other. It seems like wars are his greatest fear, it seems to me as though he hates his job. Of course these were merely questions that I thought would take a lot longer to get answered but it seems as though they came a little sooner than I'd planned. This is the story about how I died and met Death.
It was May 2nd 2014. I was home alone. My parents had gone out to see a movie and my brother was doing something with his friends, most likely at The Bagel Cafe. This was one of the rather rare occasions that I was actually home and alone for quite a long period of time. I used to treasure these moments with blasting music, dancing around, and singing at the top of my lungs. Of course, this time was no different. With my music on the highest it could go and my bedroom door closed I didn't have any chance of hearing the front door open. The first time I became aware of robbers was when one of them tripped over a set of shoes left in the hallway and cursed loudly. What went through my mind next was panic. People were in my house, strangers. What if they come upstairs? What if they find me? I decided to leave my music on; maybe they thought whoever lived here forgot to turn it off and if I turned if off they would know someone else was in the house.
I carefully walked to the top of the stairs, not very far from my room, and peaked to see who it was. Two people stood in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't see their faces because they were wearing all black. One of them was shorter and had a smaller build compared to his partner who was at least six feet tall and looked really strong. I tried to stay silent as I watched them walk into the living room and out of site. Placing my back against the railing (there was a short wall there where the railing was attached) I tried to slow my heart rate down enough to think straight.
Phone! was the first thing that came to mind. I had to get to the phone and call 911. I remembered there was one in my parents room at the end of the upstairs hallway. Carefully, I crawled into my parents room. I was almost able to reach the phone when I heard footsteps on the stairs, Damn it! They must have heard me! fing squeaky floors, I thought and mentally smacked myself. Thinking quickly I had tried to hide underneath the bed. Unfortunately for me I no longer fit under it and they eventually found me.
"Look what we have hear!" Thug One yelled to Thug Two; he must be up here alone, unfortunately he was the larger of the two. I saw him smile devilishly as he reached down and pulled me up by my hair. I didn't feel the point in struggling so I stood as still as I could as he pushed me towards the bedroom door. "Go on, run b**ch!" he whispered in my ear and shoved me onto the floor in front of him. I didn't dare look backwards as I ran for the stairs, almost tripping and falling on the way down the thought of the second robber escaped my mind when I saw the front door. It was open!
That's when it happened. My back was to the living room door so I didn't even see him coming. He quickly came up behind me, wrapped his right arm across my neck and shoved a pocket knife in my lower back. Letting me go I collapsed onto the hardwood floor in the porch. I could vaguely hear them shouting at each other; I guess the tall guy didn't agree with his partners actions.
My eyes started close as the world grew more and more fuzzy. Before my eyes closed fully I saw something at the end of the hallway. Death. He is roughly seven feet tall and completely black. As he walked towards me I noticed my eyesight improving, one thought raced through my mind. Am I going to live? I remember him looming over me; this gigantic black figure looking down at me.
No I heard. It sounded like it came from somewhere around the black figure's head. It sound deep and rough but reassuring at the same time. I looked down at the ground in confusion and looked in horror at my bloody body lying on the ground. Then I focused more on "myself", noticing I was wearing the same clothes I died in. I remember thinking about changing my clothes or something like that and hearing his voice again. This time he gave an answer I wasn't expecting. You will. Once you get there.
"Get where? Heaven?" When he didn't answer I started to panic. "Hell?" I whimpered. That's when I felt him pick me up. His hands were rather bony and I worried if he would be able to carry me then I remembered that I probably don't weight much more than a feather.
You will see, you will know, once you get there. Was all he said. I felt slightly comforted by Death, it was a strange feeling. Here I was, I had just died and was now being carried by Death to some unknown destination. Along the journey I would ask him many questions, not all he asked though. Some he answered in depth, while other were no more that one or two words. I found his point of view on the human world fascinating. He told me about the many different souls he had helped and some I found quite shocking. I'd kind of always wanted to meet Death and when I got the chance, he didn't disappoint.
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