You're Never Alone

Death is always be your side, Emma.

I sat in the park bench looking at the children play. The merry-go-rounds and the slides all filled with the faces of innocence.

Oh, how time will serve them, I thought to myself.

 Spring has arrived, and most of the children either coughed or sneezed at its arrival.

 The park blossomed with flowers, all different, and yet all the same. The concrete pathways lay burdened with kiosks of men trying to make a living. 

Living. Now that's a heavy word.

"She's being yelled at again." Life started beside me. She licked at her ice cream slowly, taking bites when she feels like it.

"What happened this time?" I asked her.

She shook her head, her hair flinging on the wind.

"She beat up a bully in her school. Broke the kid's jaw." she replied.

I chuckled, marveling at the thought of such a small girl breaking the jaw of a kid bigger than her.

"She's better than I expected her to be." I say.

Life smiled as she slapped my arm playfully. She put her arms around me, and placed her head on my shoulder.

"You know, maybe it's time we talk about us." she said.

I looked at her, her green eyes sparkled and I saw in the reflection that I was smiling.

I placed my free hand on her lips, gesturing her to stay silent.

I watched as he threw the book over the table, barely missing her by inches. 

"What is this?!" he yelled. "Why are these D's and F's?! You are supposed to by studying well!"

She stared at her plate, her mother trying to calm her father's outrage.

Then he threw a plate on the mahogany table, the porcelain shattering as it hits. A shard went flying to her face, cutting a small wound on her cheek. 

She gasped as she touched the wound, wincing in pain as she looked at the blood on her hands.

Her father momentarily stopped, clarity dawning on his face.

"Emma-" he started, but she was already crying, running upstairs to her bedroom. Her parents chased after her, but she locked the door.

I watched as her parents knocked desperately, making promises that they won't do things that they'll eventually do again.

My fists clenched in rage. I could kill that man if I wanted to. I could.

"Careful Death. I can see black fires burning around you." Life said. she sat on the edge of the bed, a book on her hand.

We were on the house in front of theirs. Me and Life made mortal versions of ourselves so  we can observe Emma.

The girl I had saved from myself.

The room  was dark, just how I liked it, but Life glowed with power, she put the book back on the wooden shelf beside the door.

I took on my ashen form, and coalesced Emma's room window. She can't see me, but I can see her crying, cutting her arm with a small blade, letting her blood drop on the floor.

I was saddened by the sight. She doesn't deserve this.

An accident occurred today, a man got hit by a truck on the streets of L.A and I came to take him. Many bystanders watched as the police investigated, forming a circle on the body. I neared the dying man. 

No, the dead man.

He looked up, staring at me with his blood-filled eyes. And he smiled.

Then I knew this man accepts his fate. I raised my scythe, and ended his life. 

I watched the bystanders, they looked at the body as it made the final groan.

One of the however, stood out to me.

A blond girl, her sleeved uniform standing out on the crowd. she held a book on her arm, the Raven I suppose.

Emma.

She stared at the scene, horrified, eyes widened in fear. But there's also something in her eyes that I saw.

Familiarity? What did she see in this man? Was he her cousin? Uncle?

Then I noticed she wasn't staring at the man. She was staring at me.

"Wait!" she yelled as I hurriedly walked off the streets, my scythe strapped on my back.

"You're Death aren't you? The devil?" she asked, her eyes lighting up, she was bouncing on her toes, clearly excited.

"Yes, I'm Death, and no, I'm not the devil." I answered.

"I  saw you cut that guy up! awesome!" she replied.

I shook my head.

" How exactly  can you see me?" I asked her.

"Like I would any other man. I look." she answered. I felt sarcasm in her voice.

"Heh, smartass. But no really, how do I look to you?" I asked again.

Her eyes squinted as she tries to come up with an answer.

"You are a handsome pale man with black eyes, no whites, only black. And you have a scythe on your back. Pretty obvious." she answered.

I sighed. "Well at least you don't see the my true form." I answered as I leaned to her face. '"Now that is terrible."

She gives me a wicked grin.

"Say, you have free time? let's talk." I told her.

She nodded her head, breathing heavily, excitement evident on her body language.

I took her hands as we walked on the marble footpath, the breeze of the spring blowing the scent of roses on the air. 

The lake in the middle of the park has a nice quiet spot to talk to.

We sat on a wooden bench as she ate the cotton candy and soda I bought her.

"So, mind telling me the scars on your arms?" I started.

"Oh this? This is just a release." she replied.

"A release of what?" I asked.

She looked at her cotton candy in silence.

"No one likes me. You see, I'm an idiot. I fail at things, I always do. I never become good enough for anything." 

I fell silent, and I gestured for her to continue.

"Dad thinks I'm useless and mom thinks I'm a problem. They say I have to change, but no matter how hard I try I can't." she says a tear streaked her cheek.

She took a sip on her soda and continued.

"I lost many friends because they say I'm headstrong, and that I don't listen enough. The truth is, I'm scared  that what I say will become the cause of problems."

she wiped her face. "They always do."

"Don't get me wrong, I have great friends, a great family, a roof under my head, but I just feel so-"

She sighs in relief.

"Alone."

I held her hand. 

"I want to show you something Emma. Focus on me, OK?" I told her. 

She smiles sadly, and nods her head.

We are standing on a hospital room, a white room filled with many machines, the smell of disinfectant hanged in the air. 

"See that man over there?" I pointed at a man in black robes, watching a baby in an aquarium-like device.

"That's me. and-"

I pointed at the baby. "That's you."

She watched in horror as I prepared to raise my scythe. Then I put it back.

Her eyes filled with sadness as she watched me take her hand, groaning as we shared the pain.

She saw me and Life, laughing, comforting her in her tiny bed.

Then the scene shifted. 

She was eight, riding her first bike. Her father held her from behind, but I held on her hand as she lost balance. she cried as the scrape on her knee began bleeding, but I also took that pain from her. Comforting her.

The scenes shift. 
She saw herself, being bullied by her classmates. When she was about to give up I held her shoulder, whispering words of encouragement.

Then she saw herself eight years later on her bedroom. Cutting her arms. But she saw I was also there. 

As she slept, I ran my fingers on her hair, not letting the nightmares through her head.

She looks at me, her eyes filled with tears, and she hugged me, tighter and warmer than Life could ever give.

"See? you're not alone Emma." I told her.

"You're never alone."

Life sat at the edge of the bed reading a book as I tell her what happened.

"She was not afraid? I mean Death was always with her, why shouldn't she be afraid?" Life asked.

"Well, you see she's dead." I told Life.

"Perhaps you should check again, she's still moving last I saw her." She replied.

"I wasn't talking physically." I answered.

Life smiled as understanding dawned on her.

"She loves you because she thinks Death is the answer to her problems." she says.

I smiled. 

"Don't worry, her time is far from now. Farther than I'd like to believe." I tell her. 

I took on my ashen form, and again coalesced on her room. 

She was already asleep, a small lamp illuminates her small room.

Mountains of dirty clothes filled her room, and I picked them up, sorting them.

I saw on her desk that it too, was dirty. I started piling her books, cleaning the scraps of paper when I saw a drawing. 

It was a blond girl, holding a pale man in black robes. The girl held the scythe in her arms, and he was trying to get it back. 

They were both laughing. I smiled as I knew exactly who they were.

I sat on the side of her bed, running my fingers on her hair. Though she was asleep, a smile forms on her face.

"You're not alone Emma. You're never alone." I whisper.