Everytime I see the ring I remember.It was a rainy day. I, the Death, was just about to finish my work, when a last assignment came in. I opened the little letter and read:
***
Maria Rose (23)
heart attack
Nursing home - rising sun (room 501)
***
I sighed. I often got jobs, where I had to take the souls of younger people to the "other side", even children. But every time they seem to fear me. On the other hand - I could understand why. They have their life before them "That's not fair!" or "Why me?" - Always the same questions they ask. Lost in thoughts I got on my moped. A "Schwalbe", like it was modern in Germany many years ago, not those rubbish motorbikes with 210 km/h and black lacquer. About 10 minutes passed, in which I just thought about the old times, the better times, when I arrived the nursing home. Looking from the outside, these buildings always looked nice. Always. But if you go in there, there's just suffer and sorrow. It made me depressed every time, again and again. That's not something you can get used to. I hurried up the stairs. I wanted to end this quickly. The last job for today. As I opened the door to room 501 the woman lying on the bed turned her head towards me. As soon as I saw her, I knew. She had never gone outside to see the world, since the accident. She just lay in her bed thinking about the world. She had no family to visit her. They all died back then. Sometimes her childhood friend came to talk with her and tell her stories, but there was no other person in her life. But she did not seem sad about her life. Maybe there was a little regret, but no grumpiness or hatred against the world. "Miss Maria Rose?", I asked and introduced myself. "I am Death. I have come to take you with me." At first she seemed a little shocked, but then she nodded. I realised, that her head was the only thing she could move. She was paralysed. I had seen many paralysed persons, but every time even I wondered "Why?" I crossed the room and took my death scythe from my back. Most people think, it would be a real scythe, but in reality it was different from Death to Death. Mine was a Catana. I once meta Death, who even had a pair of hedge clippers. Why? - I don't know. Suddenly the woman asked: "May I ask you a question?" And there we go again. This fear of the afterlife. The question of the reason. "Yes?" A little smile formed on her lips, as she looked me right in the eye. "What do you remember?"
I was speechless. Never in my life did someone ask me such a question. Nobody was interested in the memories of Death. Why should they? But this woman did. "Oh. Sorry.... I may have asked a question you didn't want to answer... I'm sorry." I shook my head. "No, no. Sorry.I was just surprised. That's all. So... what do you want to know?" The smile grew bigger. "Exactly what I said. What do you remember? What stories do you keep in mind, what persons?" So I sat down, overflowing with thankfulness. >Somebody wants to hear me out!< "Most of the people fear me. They scream, they fight or run away. But I remember an old man. He dies of cancer. As I went in the room he sat up and smiled at me. He exactly knew, who I was, and what was going to happen, but he smiled." I had to smile too, remembering the old man. No hair, thin, but with a gentle aura. "Is it a hard job, being Death?", the voice of the woman interrupted my thoughts."sometimes." My smile got a little sadder. "You have to be able to see a lot of sorrow, sadness and pain. And to have no problem with being hated and feared." The woman's eyes turned compassionate. But not in the way, somebody would look at a broken man or a little kid, after a bad incident. It was much more comforting. "So... are you lonely?" This question hit me right in my heart. "yes" I whispered. There was nothing more I could say any more. And she seemed to have nothing to say, either. After about a minute of silence I stood up. "Okay", I said with as much enthusiasm I could offer. "I would say - let's begin." I reached for my Catana again, but the woman said: "Wait" Normally I would have just ignored it, but she was different. "Yes?" "Could you get the blanket up from my left side?" That really was a strange question. But I helped her out. As I lifted it, she said: On my left hand, there is a ring. The ring, with the blue stone. Please. Take it!" I looked at her in disbelief. "What?" She nodded. "Please! I know exactly how it is to be alone. So take it!" Respectfully I slipped the ring from her finger. "Do you really mean it?" A gentle smile and a softly whispered "yes" were the answer. Suddenly I felt something wet running over my cheeks. "Thank you." I wiped the tears away. It was hard for me, to take the woman's soul, but I did my job. And she followed me without resistance. As I stood at the river, the dead souls had to cross I released her, but she hesitated a moment. All of a sudden she turned around and embraced me. The embrace of a soul. It felt warm. Without any thought, I also laid my arm around her. Then the eternal moment was over much too early. As she crossed the river she often looked back at me. This was the first and maybe the last time, I watched a soul reaching the other side.
Now, every time I bring new souls, she stands on the other bank and happily waves her hand. And every time I just stand there and wave back.
