Death Is My BFF (Book 1 Original Series)

Chapter 36: His Cloak Is His Only Saving Grace

VOTE POR FAVOR & CHECK OUT SONG AND SLIDESHOW TO RIGHT! :)

Mmmmm....the lead singer reminds me of someone...just can't put my finger on it! 

;)

~And now it's too late, for me it's too late.

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Everything was perfect. I had my alarm on my phone on while I lay down on the bed, waiting for the washer machine to go off. The cloak had picked up some of the dusk from the plastic container it was in and I figured it would like a nice wash. It was a friendly gesture of kindness, almost a peace offering towards this ‘Death’ character.

As I lay on my back on top of my neatly tucked in comforters I couldn’t help but wonder why he needed the cloak so badly and why he dropped the cloak at my house in the first place. He had made it clear he wanted me to put it on as well as the words, “See the deal your mother made with me only fourteen years ago.”

I swear, that man was as sketchy as it came.

            “FA-ITH!” Marcy yelled from the other room. “Our laundry is done!”

            My breathing hitched. Our laundry? But I had only put the cloak in the washer machine! Would it even matter if she added her clothes to the wash? It wasn’t like she was going to pour some bleach into—

Marcy appeared at archway of my bedroom door with a purple towel wrapped securely around her hair and a green mud mask along her face.“Here’s you blanket,” she said, throwing a white piece of clothing at me.

I caught it easily, my eyes wide in shock. My fingers brushed over the slightly warm material with foreboding. “Oh no, oh no, please no,” I muttered, my hand clawing around the material in search of a specific area. Everything’s alright Faith! It’s not what you—

 My hand found the opening of the hood. I swallowed a large, dry lump in my throat before opening my mouth and whispering, “Oh my God,” I held the fabric up to my face, my heart racing. “It’s—it’s…”

“White?” Marcy asked, her eyebrows raised at my strange reaction. “Yeah, that’s kind of what bleach does—“

“THE CLOAK IS WHITE! THE CLOAK…IS WHITE” I burst out, shaking the material in front of me. I jumping off my bed with the material in my arms. I let out a small yelp when I realized the material felt heavier, and flimsy, almost as if it wasn’t…alive anymore.

Marcy yawned, stretching her arms out to the ceiling. “It’s just a Snuggie, relax. I have to get up early in the morning, cya.”

I flashed a tight, furious smile at Marcy as she left before flopping backwards onto my bed. “I’m dead,” I concluded, hugging the cloak to my chest like a safety blanket. I hopped off my bed and began walking down the hallway into the laundry room to find some sort of solution. My eyes frantically moved around the shelves for something I could use. Finally after minutes of panic I stepped away from the shelves with my hands to my head. There was absolutely no solution to un-bleach the cloak.

I was dead.

There are no other words to describe the big pile of steaming crap I just got myself into. I bleached the Grim Reaper’s cloak. I’m so dea-

The lights flickered. It was only a small motion but had a huge impact on me. Without hesitation, I moved from the freezing cold tiles of the laundry room to the hallway’s wooden floors. “What the…” My eyes glued to the tan wall lamp at the end of the hallway. It continued to flicker as if going to its own beat, followed by a deep, solid hum.