"Thank god it's finally over," he murmurs.
I feel a pang of emotion fill my chest. I hate this job. I hate being a reaper.
"Things are tough sometimes, that's no reason to die over." I say, more to myself than him.
"Sorry man, but i'm done." He looks at me flatly.
I let the gates creek open on their own, and allow him in before me.
YOU ARE READING
Letters to Death
ParanormalSuicide notes are meant for the living, not for Death. He takes them anyways.
