Expired

Broken. (Chapter One)

I saw her get home, late, as always.
She dropped her bag on the floor and shut the door behind her.
I could tell it was all she had to be able to walk up the stairs, I was surprised that she did.
I followed her as she went into her room, as I'd always have to see what she did in this house, but, she'd never be able to see me.
She threw herself on her bed, and cried. I could tell she was mad at herself about something.
"What's my point in life?" She wondered aloud. "If I were to die right now, who'd even care?"
"I would." I said. But did she hear me? No. she never would. I was a silent doll, she could ever see, hear, or care for me, but I'd do all those things for her.
I'd always do it.
No matter the pain, or the suffering.
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    She spent all night crying, as somebody in her family had just died, her mom and brother. Her brother didn't hurt as bad as her moms death did, because she didn't know him as well. They're 18 years apart. So when he was born, she was already gone.

     I'd leave her once in a while, but I'd see her, or somebody she knew again. I have to watch over the new borns and check up on the friends and family of the dead.
Most of the time it's only a few weeks or months before people get back up on their feet, but it's nearly been a year.

    My other job is to take the dead to the afterlife. I don't know what the afterlife is like, but I do know that there are two forces. One good and one bad. One is more powerful than the other, but I never stick around long enough to find out which.

     Amelia Rose was her name. And it was something to match her personality, well at least before the one who had given it to her died.

    She was a happy person. Actually she was really popular and successful. She was like the popular kid who actually cared.
   I was there when her great grandma died. She was 11 then. She's 23 now, and she's letting her life fall apart. She needs serious help, but who can really help her at this point? I can only help people for two years. Subtly and slowly, I only have a year left with her and then I just have to hope that she'll take care of herself. People either pop right back up, or they fall into a depression, either to live in an internal agony or commit suicide.

    When some people die they ask me who I am and why I came for them. Others ask "what's beyond" or if they'd go to hell. And some ask about their loved ones. But not Amelia's mom. She told me that she was happy it was her and not Amelia's little brother, Jayden.

I didn't have the heart to tell her that Jayden had died in the hospital a few hours after she did. But I saw him before I saw her. That's the way it works, the longer you're alive the more you go back to look on when you die. I'm not sure if it's a good way to go out, or something to make you regret what you hadn't done more.

  I know that Amelia won't go on for much longer after I leave. I always calm her down or distract her without being seen, but the way things are going, I'm gonna have to show myself to her. And I've only done that once. And nearly got killed for it.
  Oh I didn't mention? I can get killed. Yeah it takes a lot of work, but if you're my kind,  it's simple.
    So simple.
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I woke her up twenty minutes before she had to be at work, she'd overslept, but I'd always make sure she'd be up. I did it by opening her window and making her freeze until she had to get up.
She threw on whatever, not even trying to bother with hair and makeup. Not that she ever wore much makeup before.
She threw her hair up in a bun, and I hoped to all that was good in the world that her best friend was driving her today. She was.
"Liquor for breakfast, huh?" Said Emilee, while grinning. Her life wasn't all that good either. Her mom had died when she was 13, and Amelia helped her out then. So when Amelia's mom died it hit Em really hard. But she was able to get back up, seeing how her friend was and how she'd felt.
"Screw off." Amelia said. "It's better than tequila."
"Yes, but very unconventional." Em said while taking the bottle and pouring it down the sink.
I wished she'd get back on her feet. She wasn't ever happy anymore, didn't even try to care. With everyday I see her eyes get colder and it hurts. But that just shows how often people can be destroyed when one thing goes wrong.
Sometimes people are okay. But, sometimes people just give up. They can't bring themselves to realize the harsh reality that if somebody's dead, they're supposed to be.
It might feel like they're not supposed to die, but for whatever you believe in, you can always see that all stories have an end. Sure some go out with more of a bang, but the ones that do tend to hurt more than ones who don't. For the ones who don't, it feels like they're not good enough, and that also hurts.
It all hurts really, some are just better at hiding it, or pressing it so far down, they forget how to feel. They forget how to cry, and they give up.
I think that's the worst part. Watching people break themselves, even though they're okay.
Seeing others waking up, just to wish they'd never had the chance to is what hurts more than the death of others.
Why? Because they'll probably get what they want. And nobody will notice or care, we're all forgotten, at some point or another people realize that even if they do get back up nothing they do really matters.
That's the worst part. Seeing others loose all and any hope because they wanna be dead and they want to be forgotten, not realizing they'll just do the same to the others around them.