Death writes with a Purple Ballpoint Pen

3: Stop rambling, Anna

Dedicated to saturninabottle. One, your username. And two, Sssh. That probably did not make sense. Haha. Picture of Kevin and Marie in the media section along with Girls by The 1975.

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3: Stop rambling, Anna

I could not imagine what Angels of Death in Ye Olden Times did for fun.

There was no Internet, no computers or even smartphones, and the number of published books were at a bare minimum. On top of all of that, they had to blend in with the normal folk and fulfill their responsibilities – paranormal or otherwise.

No wonder they started to cosplay bats.

Scaring normal folk was probably the only chance at fun they got.

Scientists will tell you that the average lifespan went up because of advanced medicine and better living conditions.

The truth: people lived longer because we were more preoccupied than before.

Not to say that my kind had been bitten by the lazy bug.

My Dad and the rest of the official Angels of Death are the biggest workaholics. Unlike the human kind, their stock market didn't go from nine-thirty in the morning until four in the afternoon – it was a twenty-four hour ordeal.

I'm rambling again.

I'm sorry.

It happens.

A lot.

Kevin, Marie and I – along with the slew of others who shared our fate – constantly lived way too much in our heads and you, sadly, are a witnessing the chattiness inside mine. What else were we supposed to do when we couldn't have a free flowing conversation with the people around us?

You can always walk away if you're not into the whole rambling though.

Just know that you'll be taking my heart with me and I'll be making a bulk order of Kleenex.

Insert sob here.

Ha.

I might have ended up on Broadway if I wasn't already destined to be something else – I certainly had the flair for theatrics.

But as high schools went, my lunch buddies were the farthest things from thespians. They were mostly people from the newspaper and student council. I sometimes joining the nearest conversation but mostly ended up just reading or playing a game on my phone.

Today, for instance, I was playing a zombie game Marie had been playing twelve hours ago during her own lunch break. I planned on finishing all fifteen levels but life had a different plan of its own.

"Anna?"

I looked up in time to see Ben take the seat across mine. "You were wrong." He had on a smile that could restart an unbeating heart and make it fly a hundred miles an hour.

My own heart was a hummingbird caged in my chest. "E-excuse me?"

"You said we didn't have any of the same classes together at the same time but we have the same lunch period."

"Lunch isn't a class."

It is a blessing from the gods – Halleluiah.

"A technicality." He countered with another heart-stopping smile. "We still get to see each other even if it's just forty-five minutes. So I hereby declare I will be having lunch with you every day for the rest of the year."