The Journals of Death.

Part Three

As the days continued to pass, I racked my brain for other ideas on how to get myself free. Nothing came to mind. I wasn't the best at interacting with others so calling for a nearby reaper to help was out of the question. Would Hades notice my absence? If he didn't come looking for me, no one would. I hope he didn't take Life's side on this issue and decide leaving me like this would serve as a lesson.

I hated it when he did that.

One time, when I had challenged Life to a game, the winner of the challenge was allowed to request any one thing from the loser. I had hoped that if I won, I could take human lives as I pleased without anyone hindering me because of rules. Spoiler alert: things didn't work out that way. I lost and was forced to wash Life's feet, of all things. His feet. Gross. He could've asked anything of me. He could've asked me to follow the rules. Instead, he asked me to wash his horrid feet without even offering so much as an explanation. I'd asked Hades for support in calling the request unreasonable, but he sided with Life saying the agreement was "any one request" and not "anything but washing Life's feet."

"Staying upside down is tiring," I mumbled, trying to bring my mind back to the task at hand. Life was a jerk. The biggest jerk I knew. Actually, probably the only jerk I knew. I'm lacking in the friend department. Life is by no means my friend. Neither was Hades.

I was too concerned with trying to figure out if I had any friends to notice the sound of fluttering wings in the distance. When I finally did turn my head, however, imagine my surprise to see an angelic figure that wasn't Life. I hadn't considered that an angel, of all the universe's populace, would want to help me.

"I was sent here by Life to set you free," the angel looked nervous. I gave her props for initiating conversation. That is more than most do. Hanging upside down from a tree by one foot wasn't doing anything to help my intimidating image, but still, preconceived notions are preconceived notions.

"Who are you?" I asked her. She stood with her hands behind her back, but from upside down it was hard to tell if she was nervous or just slightly amused. Perhaps both? Probably both. As much as I hated to admit it, I did look a bit stupid at the moment.

"My name is Dionysus," the angel replied.

"Like the Greek?" I blurted out without thinking. I shouldn't be talking to her. I should be allowing her to do her civic duty of setting me free. Have I been craving conversation for so long that I would stoop so low as to talk to one of Life's minions? What is the universe coming to?

She nodded, "But I am not the Greek."

"Your name is trash simply because I cannot pronounce it well." That was a lie, I simply didn't think the name of the wine-obsessed-moron suited her. "We must remedy this catastrophe," I crossed my arms and closed my eyes to think.

"Congratulations," I outstretched my arms and opened my eyes. "Your name is Daisy now." Daisy suited her. Yeah, Daisy was much better. I totally didn't name her that because I was staring at this small patch of daisies under the tree all day or anything. Haha! Of course not! I'm great with names!

The angel laughed. Not a mocking laugh or even a laugh of amusement. I couldn't pinpoint what type of laugh it was. Pure joy? Impossible. I couldn't make someone that happy. Was she laughing at herself?

"Why that name?"

"Do you find qualms with it?" I didn't want to explain to her that the name was simply the first name that started with the letter 'D' I could think of (and because of the flowers right there).

"It's not that I don't like it. I would just like to know why you chose it." The humans are rubbing off on me, I suppose. They name everything and anything. Surely no part of me assumed that this angel and I would be friends. I doubt we'd ever see each other again after this.

"You aren't qualified to know that information," I replied, noticing her wing tremble slightly. I might've been too harsh in the way I presented that sentence. Was this the beginning of me feeling guilty? Well, as with any other emotion, let's toss that aside and move on. Heaven forbid I get a conscience.

"Are you going to stand there forever or will you release me from this horrible bondage?" I crossed my arms, allowing my robes to fall back over my face. The best way to avoid a subject was to change the subject. This is but one of my many mottos.

"I'm so sorry!" she apologized, muttering the phrase over and over, while untying the rope. I fell to the ground shortly after. Daisy couldn't catch me. She'd disappear but that didn't stop my body from aching. I stretched before rubbing the bump on my head. That wasn't the first time I'd been dropped, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"I'm so sorry," Daisy apologized, again.

"Stop it. No one apologizes to me." No one ever should. Hate me. Resent me. Loathe me. Despise me. Aim all of your negative emotions at me. It's better that way. Life is the one to be loved, even if he does need a personality check.

"I'm so-"

"What did I just say?"

Daisy nodded. "I will try my best," she promised. I had a feeling that would be an impossible task. It didn't take a genius to know she wasn't the most confident angel. Her trembling wings gave that away.

"Good," I smiled, "your best is all that you can do."