The Doll, Death Giver, and Death Himself

Part title

   Death is inevitable, as we know it. But what exactly happens when we die? What is the cause of the death? Is it our body that chooses the exact moment of death? Or is it something else? Or someone else?

   Olivea was five years old when she was diagnosed with cancer. Such a situation was exactly what Melissa, Olivea's mother, needed to push her into a state of depression.
   Melissa had begun doing drugs again shortly after Olivea was diagnosed. Melissa had done drugs as a teenager, but she decided to go clean when she conceived Olivea.
   She was eighteen when she became pregnant. The man who left her with his seed disappeared the day he found out he was to be a father. Melissa's parents kicked her out of the house upon hearing the news of Melissa's pregnancy and she was forced to live with her uncle, who neglected her most of the time, until she could find a job and an apartment.
   Though Melissa lived a tough life, she was the most joyful woman from the moment she laid eyes on her baby girl. She named her Olivea after a character in her favorite book that had saved people by the act of spreading happiness. Olivea was her muse and the one person in her life that made her believe there was something to be happy about.
   Melissa was a new person after having Olivea. She never did drugs, nor did she drink alcohol. She did her best raising Olivea on her own. She enjoyed every moment being with her daughter. The small girl with big green eyes and long, wavy hazel hair and light freckles thrown across her cheeks, this girl was her happiness. This girl was her life and her one and only love.
   When Olivea was four, a month away from becoming five, Melissa noticed a small lump appearing on Olivea's chest. She took Olivea into the doctors office a few weeks after she turned five and within a couple days, Melissa received the news that would change her life forever. Olivea had a malignant  tumor growing on her heart. She would be treated but it was likely she would not make it.
   Melissa cried herself to sleep night after night. She watched Olivea's pain increase over the weeks. Her small body became very weak and her skin began losing color. The freckles on her face had almost disappeared within a few months. Melissa knew she had very little time left with her little sunshine. It was time to start staying goodbye.

   Melissa sat in her room on the side of her bed, staring at the wall. It was glowing electric blue and seemed to be spinning. It was as if a porthole of magic had appeared in front of her to take her away from all the pain in her life.
   A yellow frog appeared at the end of the porthole.
   "Melissa, come live with us. I promise you'll be happy." The frog said to her. She stood up and walked towards the porthole. She stepped in and began floating down a path that had many different colors whisking around her. The number of frogs that hopped around the colorful porthole amazed Melissa.
   When she got to the other side she felt as if she had just hit her head very hard, though she had not been close to anything that could hit her. Why the hell does my head hurt this bad?

   Melissa's eyes slowly opened, her vision was blurry at first, and she heard muffled sounds. Is it laughter? Is it someone whispering in my ear? Is it the magical frog? What is that damn sound?
   Melissa sat up and felt a throbbing in her head again. She put her hand on the back of her head. She was on the ground. I must've ran into the wall last night. Fucking ecstasy. She thought. She heard the sound again. What the hell is that? She began feeling uneasy.
   "MOM!" Olivea's voice, loud and clear, screaming. Melissa jumped up off of the floor.
   "Fuck." She whispered under her breath as she ran down the hall to Olivea's room.

   "I fell and hit my head, I was out for a few hours I think. I didn't hear for a while." Melissa explained to the doctor, only telling part of the truth. Melissa knew she had run into the wall because she had taken the pills. She also knew that she could not tell anyone she was doing drugs again. They would surely get Olivea taken away.
   Olivea sat beside her, looking groggy from lack of sleep.
   Olivea had heard Melissa hit the wall the night before and called for her throughout the hours that followed, allowing her little to no sleep.
   Melissa's head was still throbbing. She didn't have a concussion, but she had hit her head hard enough that it almost hurt to think.
   After a few hours, Melissa was released from the hospital and went back home.
   She tucked Olivea in that night and sang her a few lullabies before walking to her own bedroom.
   Melissa sat on the side of her bed, staring at her dresser drawer. The top drawer held what she though she needed to get rid of the throbbing in her head.
No, she thought. No more pills tonight. She laid down on her bed and pulled the blankets over her body.
   After hours of tossing and turning, Melissa fell asleep.