Some blame me. Some fear me. Some welcome me with open arms. Some do it with clenched fists. They say I'm inevitable. They say I'm heartless. Maybe they're right. Sometimes though, sometimes I think it is life that is heartless. That life will inevitably screw everyone in some way. Maybe it's what I see when I collect a body. The despair. The heartbreak. The satisfaction. I don't think that's it though. There are ones that seek me to get out of the clasps of life. Ones that are so miserable that they abandon everything they have ever known. There are the ones that come to me with no humanity left. The ones that I have visited many times to collect the fresh blood on their hands. But sometimes I am given hope for the race many think I have made my mission to exterminate. Sometimes I see a mother selflessly give her life to her child out of love. Sometimes I see someone hold on to life so hard that I almost let them be. Yes I am inevitable. But I do not believe I am heartless. I think it's a lot more complicated than that. I am more complicated than that. I am death.
