"A Day in the Life of Death," by Alexandra R.

The familiar sound of winter comes, and follows me, like it always does around this time of year. The snowflakes pass through me as I pile souls in the snow. I almost feel watched, but I know that is impossible. The mortals on this world and all like it can’t see me. And never will. I send the pile drifting off into the wondrous fuchsia sky from the snow. The souls that had a right to live. Unlike me.

A small fact

I am death.

Do not be alarmed. I will know when it is your time, and I will carry your soul away just as carefully as I sent this batch.

A reassurance

I am not the scary

brown or black-cloaked demon

with a scythe that kills for

Pleasure. It’s just my job. 

I have nowhere to live, mainly because I don’t live at all. I float in the between of life and death, the thing between happiness and anger, trickery and honesty.

 I don’t belong here, in this world. Not like those I carry away. I am envious, even of the smallest flea. It is well known that humans think of me as a murderer, or as war’s best friend, but this is not true. I find war like the kind of friend no one wants to have, they make you work and give you nothing in return, and when you complete one impossible task, they keep on pushing for you to take on an even bigger one.

I never wanted this kind of existence, but the world of being in between life and nothingness, is a difficult way to be. I sometimes wish that I were dead, for then I could belong somewhere. Even I do not know what it is like to live in my realm, but I know that it must be more pleasant than this awful existence. I try to stay on the bright side, I really do, but It’s difficult when all you have to entertain yourself, are the colors of the sky.

I often think about colors. It is strange how they work. For example, blue. To some people blue is the color of sadness and cold, but to many others it is perceived as trust, loyalty, sincerity, wisdom, and confidence. This is how I entertain myself, gobbling up useless facts to pass time. How else would I know that hippo sweat is red? Or that the next full moon on Halloween will be in 2020? I’ve spent my life with information floating around in my head. With no one to tell it to or to share it with. Of course, humans can’t notice me, otherwise how would I manage to do my job? People aren’t good listeners anyway, but I would live with the world's worst listener if it meant that I could be seen.

“I picked that quote because it really explains what the book is about,” I said during my book talk. “I hope that you decide to read “a Day in the Life of Death by Alexandra Romano” and with that, I walked back to my desk and took a seat.

 Theme Inspired by The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak