The Unknown Tales: A Collection of Short Stories, One Shots, and More

Death's Remembrance

Death visited me in the late hours of the morning, when the sun had yet to light a new day.

His face, so full of infinite sorrow, leaned close to mine.

Come.

He did not speak. There was no whispering wind over my ear. No breath of life.

Death does not speak.

Nor does he breathe.

"Death?" I asked. My breath stirred his sad face and for a moment he was not so sad.

Yes?

"Before I go, will you tell me?"

Tell you what?

"What do you remember, Death?" My voice was so soft, so frail, but I needed to know. To know what Death remembered for I already knew what came when life gave me away.

Death stood back, his face distant and soft. Then a shadow crossed over his face, he became hard and cold. For a long while he stood there as the room grew colder and colder. Darker and darker until all memory of that joyous moment faded to a single speck, dancing and shining before his face.

Death reached up and took the speck between his hands, cupping the little light to his chest. It gleamed through his shadowed fingers.

I remember Life. Her beauty. Her love of Creation. There was time when we walked hand in hand. When Death and Life were one and the same. We were never meant to part.

His anger grew and he clenched his fist around the small light, throwing the room into a swirling whorl of anger, hatred, grief, and darkness.

As swiftly as it came the chaos settled and Death opened his hands again to reveal the little light shining weakly in the wake of his anger. It trembled ever so slightly.

I felt my heart lift at the sight. Death caressed the speck.

Such weak, fragile, fickle creatures you are. Yet, He loves you so. How can He love that which destroys what He intended to be forever?

Death placed the speck in the air where it floated freely before his anguished face.

Your greed forged a great rift, one that can only be bridged by the Son. Life, she was cut off. Left to suffer without me. Life and Death, never meant to be apart, were. She suffered worst of all.

Death's anger filled the room again. Such despair and malice made my failing breath catch.

You stole her beauty. Stripped her of her fair skin and sold it for the pleasures of futile existence. You forced the breath from her lungs, choked the sound from her voice, and pulled the words from her lips!

Death's anger was so great, and I so small. His every word rattled the very air, yet not a sound came from his lips, nor did they move. My body trembled with fear. I did not want to die like this. Where were the ones whom I loved? Where were they when Death darkened my eyes and stilled my heart? Where were they when I trembled through his anger.

And yet, Life too, is at fault. She grew hateful, vengeful of the ones who broke us. We vowed to never forget each other.

Hope. There was hope in Death.

Life forgot. She forgot the eternity we were.

She used to send me gifts to make me happy when I was sad. But she slowly became angry. Life forgot how to live. Her beauty faded. Now she merely exists. She is. And yet,

Death took the speck from the air and held it close to his face.

There are times when I wonder if she truly has forgotten us. That is what I remember. I remember when Life was alive, when Death was alive. When we were eternity. Now we are both dead.

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Okay, what was that? ^^

I'm supposed to be doing homework. Not writing whatever that is! Ah, well.