Found Falling In The Light

The Few Things

It all started When time began, life was formed and I was born. I am death and you will find that I am telling my own story. My own four and a half billion year life. I knew i could never act human. I'm not human. I watched the thousands of years flash by. See humans enjoying themselves. Laughing, playing, able to LOVE. Some of the things I'll never be able to do, how hard i try. And I HAVE tried. But it always ended in me coughing blood or just unable to feel any emotion. People think that I look like Lord Voldemort out of Harry Potter, just with a pick axe. In fact, get a sketch pad and draw my description, if you really want to know.I don't look like that at all. Except I'm a billion times worse Imagine a tall man, dark haired, pale skin. A face pinched with worry, sadness and overwork. A man wearing rotting death robes, with fear and pain runes encircled over the cloth. Gentle, angel hands and feet, with hundreds of souls over my shoulder, only carrying the children in my arms.

That is me.

I have always wondered what it would be like for me to be...normal. But normality, perfection etc.. are all overrated. I walk down the world's streets and people beg me to take them with me. I tell them that their loved one can wait. They don't want them coming up too soon. Give it a few days and I have to go and pick up a soul from a suicidal corpse. I feel alone. The only things that welcome me are pain, graveyards and the highway to Hell. I go to parks and watch littlies. For me it's cute and heartbreaking. I feel human. One day, a man said to me, 'You grew up to fast?'

How fucking ironic.

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Last Tuesday i sat on top of London Bridge and for some unknown reason 'London bridge is falling down' came to my head. Ah well, suppose that's the living aftermath when you have been worked hard by war. I do remember when there was a time that it was nearly blown up. I cold, bone-chilling wind suddenly broke the air leaving me with the salty smell of the Thames in my lungs.

Fuck this, I think. I close my eyes, let it all go, my mind clear, and when I reopen my eyes I feel myself under a small bridge in Melbourne, Australia. The smell of eucalyptus and car fumes clear my senses. I look down to find myself dressed in a crisp black suit with a blood red tie and my runes on my robes, I realized, were tattooed on my hands and creeping around my neck. Classy, considering.

I walk out from under the bridge and i find myself at the Yarra river looking disgusting as ever. And mortals go on and on about saving the environment. My absolute arse. Then it hits me. Nearly eighty years ago I talked to a young girl, about seven, and she asked me how i carried on when I have nothing, I suppose she was presuming i was one of the woe-begone soldiers. I told her 'You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all it is. Life... its demanding without understanding.' I break away from the memory feeling slightly panicked and drenched in a invisible cold sweat. I turn away and walk along the footpath feeling slightly hurried. I absolutely hated going back into old memories like that. It reminds me of something or someone that I'm meant to forget. Like I was never meant to know something. None of it makes any sense at all. Well...that's life isn't it. Absolutely fucking typical. I found myself at the Appleton dock road. It would be quicker my way, I think.

I close my eyes and when i reopen them I'm at Victoria Harbor.

I particularly like this part. It's really nice with the sound of the commentary from Etihad stadium and the smell of the harbor and the occasional Fisherman shouting abuse at one and another at the top of their lungs. That's what I like about Australians. In the thousands of years they've been around, they haven't changed one bloody bit. I see two policemen Giving me a look that could melt glass and another staring at me nearly pissing his pants. They must have seen me. Trust me, I don't like erasing mortals memories unless I have too. I know full and well that it's in their natures to be suspicious. But i do admit that they're spontaneously nosy. I wiggle my fingers at them, mouth 'shrink' and dive into the freezing waters of the harbor. I feel my suit disappear and my robes come back I sink and I don't flail in the water. I sink to the very bottom and when I look up I see the police calling back up and next thing I see is a diver coming down towards me. I smile at him and offer to take him back to the surface instead of ripping his air tank away as if twine.

He just stayed there watching me like a demented goldfish. I couldn't kill the sod, though how foolish he was. He probably has kids and a wife waiting for the poor sod to come home. I raise my hand slowly and he goes back up to the surface. He'll probably need counseling for the rest of his life but, thank god, he hasn't seen some of the things I've seen. I walk along the sand for god knows how long. Until I feel the cold set upon me. While I have been'enjoying'myself About fifty have died. Back to the job I suppose. And trust me, I'm not saying that with excitement.

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