Breaking Death

Life became less

When I was young, I was cursed in the disguise of a gift. A gift, so grand that greedy men have killed for it. While others have died in search of it. I have heard people view me as charming, intelligent, and wise beyond my years. I have strived to learn new things and I am greatly humbled by the opportunity to increase my knowledge. I have never in my wildest dreams think we as humans would ever advance so significantly in technology. Yet, with all of our advances, I see many people have fallen out of touch with their own reality. I have lived long enough to see many great things happen in this world. I have also cried upon seeing the light and hope of life fail as the world falls into darkness. I lived to see the pain and suffering of human nature. I also became overjoyed upon seeing the beauty of hope after the chaos had ensued. I have changed so much from where I began and have learned to adapt and grow with the times. After living with this gift for a couple of years I began to realize it wasn't really a gift at all. I now see it more like a curse. A curse of life. Through the years I have loved and lost so many people. I had become afraid of living. I have come to fear the idea of falling in love. I fear growing close because I know I will outlive them all. I am a jealous lover of those people who get to meet their fate with death. I am afraid to love but I have grown an immense passion for the idea of death. I have learned to see the true beauty of it. Oh, how I long for death to release me from this torment I continue to live in. I cry for the fallen and the ones I have lost, for the ones I have loved so deeply. I hope and pray that one day I will see them again. My longevity is not natural. I do not belong in this world but I continue to live and strive for this life I built. I have fallen ill with diseases that have killed so many people throughout the years. I should have died countless times. Yet, the absence of death coming to claim my soul has been my biggest plague.

Let me explain, I dated death back when I was young and naïve. I didn't think our relationship would have gotten as far as it did. I learned to care for him dearly but could not bring myself to love him. I knew he was necessary, that his life as death was needed. I admired him greatly because he walked a very lonely road alone. After a few years of dating him, I grew tired of all the pain and suffering he unintentionally brought along with him. I couldn't bring myself to live in the pain he bestowed on others by taking souls out of this world. Which now leaves me with this curse of life. I have lived for far too long. It had been two centuries since the ill-fated night when I broke Death and his love for me. I remember it like it was last night, even more so when it rains. When I refused to give death my life. He waited for me to love him and care for him as he needed. When all I wanted was a life he couldn't grant me. We argued in the rain. I wanted to live and I wanted to give life. All he wanted from me was to be at his side forever. I could not see past the heartache, pain, and decay. I could not see the light of life in his eyes. I fought to live my life. I could not see how giving into him would fare any better than missing out on all the things life had to offer. I refused to grant him his one wish. He had told me that it was the only way we could be together. That I was the only one he loved; I was the only thing he cared for in this world. He said that I would grow to love him deeper than any love I would ever know. For this gift of undying love, I had to give him my heart, my light, my joy, and my life. A sudden wave of anger filled my heart because he wouldn't listen. I was not an object to be owned. In my heart, I knew that I was more than that. He asked me to give him the one thing I held dear. I yelled at him, " I will not grow to love you, I hate you even more for thinking I could ever love you that much. Leave me alone, I never want to see you again!" Tears streamed from my eyes covered by the falling rain. He looked down at me from his dark shroud. He had heard the pain and anger in my voice. A sigh escaped his naked teeth. "As you wish." He replied as he turned in defeat. The last thing he said to me that night as he walked into that dark stormy night, "Just know that I will never come back to you." Then he disappeared as if he was never there. Since then the years came and went, I stopped growing older. My heart has endured so much pain from seeing those around me be greeted by death's open arms. My soul aches to see how ugly this world has become. The gift of life and the beauty I believed it held had faded away. Now, I pray to rest at death's side. I yearn to be held in the comfort of his outstretched arms that waited for me to finally let go of this life. Alas, the long-awaited gift of death has yet to come for me. With each passing decade, I increasingly crave to see him again. How stupid was I to tango with death so long ago. Late at night, I find myself crying out for him. I have begged and pleaded for him to come and take me. If given just one chance to tell him, I was wrong to doubt him. I scream in the darkness, "I AM SORRY. PLEASE! COME TAKE ME HOME." As the echo of my screams fades into the night, I am left alone with the deafening sound of silence.