Midnight's Plea

My Obsession

Chapter Twelve

My Obsession

I remember the first time the voices began to speak to me. It was around the time of my fifth birthday. Then again, living in a run down old shed, and having parents who barely pay attention to you does that to you anyway.

I was sitting on the floor of my room, watching the news, when suddenly big bright blue letters that said "BREAKING NEWS" appeared on screen. I watched with eager eyes, seeming more interested than I should have been.

"This just end," said a perky looking blond reporter. "Lives are on the line, as one psychotic robber threatens to take the lives of several hostages." She didn't look as concerned as she should have been.

Nicolas Marcus Hughes, 3/4/2002.

"One victim has been shot; A man, about forty years of age." What the hell? I thought. Well this is weird.

Michelle Martha Williams, 3/4/2002.

"One more victim has been taken down." Anthony Michael Vercelli, Henderson Drake Herald, Emily Watson Jacobs, 3/4/2002. "Oh, it seems like this criminal just won't stop, until he has all the money, and these people are dead!"

What the hell is going on!?

After that, the names I heard appeared in the paper. I knew I wasn't crazy. I couldn't be! But all the evidence still didn't matter. I'd always be classified as crazy, even if my craziness is true.

From that moment on I'd become obsessed with Death, sometimes wishing it to come. No one knows about my obsession; no one! But I had a strange feeling that even if I told Melony or Zeke about my obsession, they wouldn't mind.

They'd never mind said a voice in my head. They are part of our secret.

What?!

Death lives said another voice. It's a part of you, and it always will be!

Oh-kay, weird, I thought. Maybe I really am insane.

Not insane, said another deep, attractive, familiar voice. Just not fit for this world. You were never meant to mingle in to human life, you were meant to control their deaths. You're my prodigy, my life. You should come home, back to me, where you belong.

Giving into my insanity, I mentally replied, where is that?

Purgatory, the familiar voice replied. Midnight, come home.

Then everything went black.

Full lips the color of cherry blossoms under a cloak so white it was blinding was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. The man seemed familiar, yet somehow I felt safe in his arms. The realization hit me hard in the face.

This was death; he was here and actually holding me. He seemed so familiar somehow, like I knew him from somewhere. I felt a connection to him, a strong one that made me feel I could trust him.

"Midnight," he said in a deep, husky, familiar voice. "Welcome home honey. It's been too long and now just look at you! You're all grown up now, and still just as beautiful as you were when you were a baby…" How did he know that?

"Because," said a voice I would know anywhere, "he's your father Midnight."

"Melony," I said now confused and scared out of my mind, "what's going on?" Death smiled, and picked me up. He let his hood fall, and when I looked into his eyes I felt I was actually looking into my own.

"Midnight do not be afraid." he said, almost cooing his words like a lullaby. "I'm not going to harm you in any way. I just knew the human world was beginning to be too much for you, so I had to take you back. It's not safe for our kind to mingle with humans."

"What is our kind, dad?" The word somehow sounded right and wrong on my tongue.

"You are an angel of death," he whispered. "Just like me."