Everybody hates Death *ON HOLD*

Chapter Three - Never push

***Credit to Loes26 for this amazing cover which I am in love with!!! ----->

Obviously I wasn't expecting Mrs. Duke to expel me. I was just passing on a message, after all. For the next ninety minutes I sat in a locked cubicle in the boys bathroom, cradling my inhaler. I wasn't nervous about my dad finding out. I knew he didn't care about school and he only sent me there so that we could blend in. In my 16 years of life I had been to and left over thirty schools but not once had I been expelled. Teenage rebellion was a new feeling for me. One that I wasn't sure I enjoyed. It made me very nervous. So very nervous that I downed three anxiety tablets and sat in the toilet cubicle for the rest of the day with a box at my feet filled with the contents of my locker. The toilets smelled like hair gel and sweat. 

On the bus journey home I sat by myself, cradling the box on my lap. I knew this was probably my last ride on a school bus so I decided to try and notice the details i hadn't noticed before. Firstly, there was gum under my seat; and lots of it. It was blue and it stuck to my fingers and smelt like toothpaste. I noticed the bus driver had a small "eye of Horus" tattoo behind his right ear. Pagans supposed this symbol would ward off evil and death. I knew for a fact that it didn't work but I guess it made him feel safer. 

There were two boys sitting on the other side of the bus playing on some sort of game console. They looked as though they were having fun together. I guess they looked about 16 or perhaps even a little younger than me and I thought for a while about going over and talking to them but the idea of socializing made me nervous. I still envied their ability to maintain a friendship. I had never shared a fun moment with another human. My father and I would share the occasional laugh but I'm not sure I'm counting death as a human. I suppose he was once, a long time ago. 

Thinking about my father made my stomach twist into a knot. I hadn't seen him in two weeks. Apparently there was an explosion at a factory in Texas and some of the workers just wouldn't go into the light. That's not to say I blamed them. Not even I knew what was on the other side of the light. All I knew was that it was our job to persuade them or push them into it. 

My father only pushed a spirit into the light on one occasion. Apparently the spirit of a lawyer who got stabbed in an alleyway saw my father and asked if he was the grim reaper. I guess that really didn't deserve a push but at the same time I couldn't blame my dad. I mean, come on, "the grim reaper?" That's just insulting.