I hate kids.

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I hate kids.

They cry and demand their parents in this pitiful little voice and scream. And they make this pathetic face when I tell them about...

Well.

Kids always kill me--no pun intended. Although I could have used a joke. I just... needed to take a break. Decompress a bit. I found this voice recorder, and it's not like anyone can hear me. Reapers are mostly undetectable to humans, at least living humans, when we're on the job. And when humans are around, we're always on the job. It's kind of weird at first, but you get used to it after you've been on the job a while. Plus you can always take a few days off and go back to the underworld if you need a break, although this isn't so bad. It's pretty normal, actually, although that might be the problem...

It's been maybe a year in this job, and I've seen everything. Almost.
I've gotten used to the suicides, although that was hard. I used to give them pep talks, but it's not like it'd do them any good where they were going, and they usually didn't appreciate it. If they feel like talking, now I just ask them if they were happier than they had been. They usually aren't.

The old-ages are fine most of them, although senile cases are... less so. They don't tend to respect me or my authority, but there's a lot a big weapon-looking thing will do for your authority, although not looking your age has its disadvantages, hah. They all tend to calm down after a bit anyway, if they even know who they are still.

Accident victims sometimes get angry, but they usually calm down after a bit. It wasn't my fault, although I tend to get blamed, which is annoying. Don't shoot the messenger, asshole. Besides, it's easy not to get too sad when someone's yelling at you.

I've even gotten used to the murders, although that... took me a while. Longer than the suicides, even--Especially in the case of the real sick people, and I'm not talking about the dead.

Disease cases, on the bright side, for lack of a better word because this is anything but bright, are fine on the whole. They usually knew it was coming, and had come to terms with it. Some of them are even happy to see me, which is... well, it's a thing. It's nice seeing smiles, at least.

The only ones I really still have trouble with are the kids.

"I hate kids..."

Who's that?

Well, might as well call him an advertiser. A very... aggressive advertiser for our business. He didn't see me, obviously. It's really hard to see us on the job, and we're always on the job. Even I can't see some of my coworkers, at least not easily, although that might be because I'm--
The guy just made a beeline for the closet. The kids he missed before were hiding there, but they started crying... fuck...

Oh, fu--

I had to leave. I'd seen some shit in this line of work, but...

Just seeing kids... like that is bad enough, but he had to... Well, didn't have to, but he did anyway, fuck knows why. Ugh... Fuck this job, seriously. I'm never working anything with kids again. Someone else can do it... Someone used to this shit. I just hope to G--hope that I never meet them.

It's hard not to say the G-word, and even harder now I have this shit job. Especially after something like that... ugh. Still, the Big Guy Upstairs doesn't like being called on for what he calls 'every little thing', so it's discouraged for us professionals. As professional as we get, anyway. Most people stop being serious at all after a while, just sweep their scythe and call it a day without even keeping an eye out for ghosts.

Speaking of, I think there's one in the area...

Yep.

Fuck.

Those poor kids... I don't want to see them again. I can't get that scene out of my head... I'm too damn sensitive for this. I still don't know why I was suggested for this job. It's like the dumping ground for whack jobs and anyone with fewer useful skills than a hedgehog on drugs, and I bet that if we could die again we'd be more suicidal than middle-class American teenagers. At least people working toward some higher purpose have that in mind. I just have intermittent pay, and duty. Such as it is.

Dammit, it's here...

I have to help them... Most ghosts are just people who got lost on their way to the doors, but some of them are batshit insane and violent to boot, and one of them is standing in the street. Those last few kids... If I don't take them...

That guy's still in there.

He's still--

I couldn't believe I'd ever be scared again... Dammit, I can't just sit here. They need me... If I don't help them, that--Shit. It just came into the building.

The guy with the knife still can't see me. I'm safe. I know this, I... I just have to make sure these kids are, too.

"Who are you? What happened? Why did he--he..."

Woah, there, it's okay now! Don't cry! I'm going to take you all out of here, okay? Is this your sister?

"No..."

Really? She's just as cute as you. Here, wipe your face with this, okay? Come on, you two. We need to get your friend and get on our way, okay? Someone's looking for you.

"Is it my mommy?"

Uh... yes. How's your stomach feel? What's your name?

"Icky... I'm Lois."

And you?

"S-Sally."

Well, it's nice to meet you two. Let's go get your friend, okay?

"Kay..."

Hi there! What's your name?

"Michael..."

No crying now. You're going to be just fine. Where are your parents?

"I don't know."

Okay. Let's go find them, okay? You all need to grab onto me, and don't let go. I'll take you all back to your parents, okay?

"My mommy said not to trust people who said they were taking me somewhere..."

Well, she didn't mean me. I'm taking you all home. I'll get you back to your parents and then everything will be okay. I--I promise.

"I don't know where my mommy is."

I... I do. They're right this way.

"Mommy! I see my mommy!"

"Sally! You're okay!"

"She helped us, Mommy! She took us all here! Look, Michael, it's your parents!"

"Lois, your brother's here!"

"Mikey! Mikey, we missed you so much, baby!"

"Lois! C'mere, sis!"

"Mommy! Daddy! Where did you go? I was so alone for so long..."

I should go. Bye.

"Thank you, lady! Bye!"

No need to thank me! I'm just doing my job!

'Just doing my job...' Yeah, right. If I was doing my job right, there wouldn't have been a need for that... I was told to just use the scythe, not walk them all the way to the doors, but... Fuck it. That was... hard. But I helped them all. I hope I brought them to heaven. That's... something. I'm putting my scythe away for a while, after I check off their names... Check off? Ugh... I hate that they're like items on a list in these fucking books. I just hope I never start thinking of them like that...

I need to sleep... It wasn't as physically hard as some jobs, but...

I wish I could have stopped that guy.

I wish I didn't have this job.

I wish...

...I hate kids.

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