Thursday, July 19, 2012

Death Is A Cool Guy, Part 4

Part 4. I don't mean to diverge from my usual so much, but I've really enjoyed writing this story. I like viewing Death anthropomorphically. Anyway, here ya go.


                I stood at the door fixated on the dull bronze nine. The world had faded into gray fog and all I could see was that nine, thinking that once I’d stepped through the door, a man would die. I didn’t know him, and never would, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty.
                “It’s time” I heard Deaths ethereal voice drift through the fog. I had put it off long enough, I couldn’t keep messing with the course of nature. I nodded silently and Death put his hand on my shoulder. Together we stepped through the closed door. I had momentarily forgotten that we would be walking through it rather than opening it. It felt like walking through a waterfall, thin but heavy with the evenings rain. I closed my eyes.
                When I opened my eyes I was standing inside the mans apartment. The layout was identical to my own, but the furnishings were all wrong. The TV was on the opposite wall and there was no couch, only a Barka lounger with an overweight man sitting in it. The Spartan nature of his home only underscored his ultimate loneliness.
                “Don’t worry, he can’t see or hear us. Not yet” Death said to me, noticing my anxiety at being caught.
                “What do you mean not yet?”
                “He’ll have to see us once I collect him. I’ll try to make it quick.”
                I looked at the TV. Teri Bauer was tied to a chair. I had seen this episode many times so I knew what was coming shortly. The scene cut to Jack Bauer searching the hallways furiously. I glanced at the man. He was riveted.
                “How old is he?” I finally asked. Looking at the man, I guessed he was in his late forties.
                “He’s 51” I was close, “It’s actually a miracle he made it this long. His heart is in bad condition. He doesn’t know it but that small twinge of pain he just felt was the hole in his heart finally rupturing. He’s only got a few minutes now”
                Jack Bauer was cradling his dead wife, grief and vengeance in his eyes. The man in the chair was now grasping his chest. He had a pained look on his face. I couldn’t help but stare. I knew I should turn away but I was entranced by the sight of a mans life draining from his face. My morbid curiosity was locked on to his eyes.
                There was a look of bewilderment in his eyes. He had no idea what has happening, only that it hurt and wanted it to end. Suddenly, a wash of terror flooded across his eyes. He knew what was happening. He knew it was his end. Then his eyes crept slowly up to lock on the two figures standing in front of him. The sudden realization that he wasn’t alone was quickly overcome by more fear when he locked eyes on Death.
                My eyes followed his. Even though there was no expression on the face of Death, I could tell he was hurt. I found myself sympathizing more with this grotesque skeletal figure in black than the man who was dying. And that’s when it hit me. I finally understood why Death kept coming back to me. He needed a friend.
                “This has gone on long enough” Death said as he reached his hand forward. The loose sleeves on his robes receded as he stretched further. He laid his bony hand on the mans forehead. The room grew brighter than a thousand fluorescent bulbs. When I was finished rubbing the spots from my eyes, the scene had returned to normal.
                The man on the Barka lounger was slumped slightly to the side, his right hand fallen from the spot on his chest it was grabbing. His eyes were open but he saw nothing. He was clearly dead. I looked at Death and caught a quick sigh. I said nothing, this was not the time for words.
                “Come on, let’s go do some bong hits” Death finally said with a hint of resignation in his voice.
                Jack Bauer was collapsed outside, crying into his hands. 

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