I cowered in my bed, lifting the white, stiff covers up to my nose, allowing my eyes to keep watch as the dark phantom streaks along my bedroom walls.
I wanted to scream, I did, but it seems that as soon as I spoke the words, they were lost in the blackness that surrounded me. Not even the fact that there were people on watch outside calmed me the least bit, their shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor just outside my room.
Even so, if they heard me, they wouldn't care. They think I'm crazy.
They knew I was crazy.
His laughter echoes off the asylum walls, taunting me, teasing me. We both know what day it is. And it may even be my last.
Who is he?
Gus the Reaper.
He begins to materialize before me. I squirm uncomfortably, moving back as far as my bed will allow me. His laughs become louder, his black skin turning to one of a humanly color; yet he wears a black cape that seems to have been made of shadows. He keeps his eyes well hidden, his inky black hair spilling down his shoulders.
"It's been so long, Holly," he said casually, striding up to my bedside, the eerie shadows following him.
"Go away" I command, having regained my voice, although it is rather shaky.
"Seems I'm the only one here for your party" he said, his long, snake-like tongue flicking inside of his mouth.
I cover my ears with my hands, shutting my eyes tightly, as if I would ever be able to block out someone so horrid as Gus the Reaper. He laughs. I feel cold fingers that could only be his wrap around my wrist, and I feel myself begin to freeze all over, starting at wrists and quickly spreading like an icy wild fire.
"Happy sixteenth birthday" he says, snickering. I freeze, opening my eyes. He, of all people, had been the only to even remind me that it was my birthday. My parents had not visited me in the asylum, and none of the somber-faced staff gave any words of knowledge about the date. I let out a rattled breath, wrapping my arms around myself, and lowering my eyes so that I would not have to see his wicked smile teasing me.
A cold finger reaches under my chin and slowly; Gus the Reaper lifts my chin so I have tostare at his menacing face, his razor sharp teeth like daggers in his mouth.
"I don't get you," he said, leaning in closer. "Every year on your birthday I come here and give you a chance to live this horrid planet, Earth, and every year you refuse. We both know that your parents have abandoned you, they think you're a mad girl for talking to a shadow" he lets out a menacing laugh, as if my suffering is funny. For him, I'm guessing it was. "Everyone thinks you're mad. Why else place you here, in the Asylum for Young Crazy's?"
"Asylum for Young Girls" I corrected, unable to respond to his other words, that I was still trying to go through in my head. He was right; yet, I didn't want to give up on life.
Still, it seemed so easy to just agree. To follow him to wherever death was.
But I was not a quieter, and I was not going to become one now in the face of a reaper. "Just leave me alone" I said somberly, trying to move away from him. What if those on watch outside were listening to me as I talked crazily to myself?
He snickered, reaching inside of his cloak. Slowing, he pulled his hand back to show first a long, dark black rod that seemed furry around the edges, as if it were jerking side to side too quickly for me to see. As he pulled on the rod, I saw that it was part of a scythe, a long, gleaming silver one that in no way would ever be able to fit inside his cloak.
I let out a started cry, jumping back on my bed, reaching a hand up to stop him, as if such a minor motion will get him to stop.
He angled the scythe around my neck, and I felt the cold feeling of metal on my neck, making my skin crawl. I wanted to stop him, I did, I wanted to have the power or will to stand up to someone so frightening as the reaper himself. That was all just wishful thinking at the time.
"Your words of defiance mean nothing. I see what is in your heart, dear. What you say is not it"
What did he mean? I looked up, startled, then, without a single word spoken, he pulled the scythe forward and straight through my neck.
