"So, Death."
I look back at him.
"Can you like, do me a favour and kill a bitch." I suppress a smirk and look away. He's dead serious.
"If it makes you feel any better, she gets AIDS in three years."
He seems to think this over, and with a satisfied shrug, he follows me. I simply try to stay silent as i bring the fuming brat to the afterlife.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Death
ParanormalSuicide notes are meant for the living, not for Death. He takes them anyways.
