Short Stories.

A Pretty Nice Guy.

It's been 17 years, 312 days, 6 hours, 27 minutes and about 20 seconds since I learnt the truth about humanity; about existence. Since I met life. Life's a bitch; there is simply no other way to describe her. She causes stress and pain the majority of the time; luckily I will get the pleasure of meeting death rather soon.

At age 4 I was diagnosed with a terminal illness- one so rare it is yet to have a name and at this moment in time it only effects 3 people on earth (me being one if them). There is no known cure which I guess is expected due to the lack of knowledge we have on it. I've survived triple the amount of time I was told I would which is most definatly a miracle but I can feel it now. I feel the energy leaving my body daily, I can feel the pain engulfing me and I can feel the illness winning the fight. It's ok though I have made my peace with the fact that I am going to die; most likely soon and definatly within the next year. But as I've previously stated life's a bitch so I'm quite happy to be rid of her.

Not once has life dine anything even remotely nice to me. She destroyed me. She destroyed my family. Me physically and my family mentally. I actually can't wait to be dead; I know how bad that sounds but it's true. I hope death will be a better person and if he isn't at least I won't be ill.

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It's been two months and it's time, I can tell. I'm going to die now- within the hour. My family have been called to say goodbye, I wonder how many will show. This is going to sound terrible but I hope none do, I don't want to see their faced. I don't want my last memories of them to be sad and painful. The air is tense enough without them here. I want to remember them happy and smiling. I'm glad I've written this so if they don't make it in time they have something.

I love you guys, I really do and I'm sorry for how much pain I have caused; I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
I guess this is it; goodb...

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I'm dead. Literally, physically, mentally, inside and out dead. I don't feel pain anymore and I can see my own body surrounded by crying loved ones. My brother found my writing and is now reading it to my family. Some smile, some laugh and everyone cries, it breaks my investing heart just a little bit.

I hear footsteps but I can't see anyone. It's very dark in here (wherever here is) I feel a presence behind me; a cold and mysterious one.
" ahh," I screamed as I felt an unfamiliar hand grab my shoulder and pull me to fave them.
"Hello dear, I'm death. It's very nice to meet you though I bet we both wish it was under better circumstances; how, is there really a good reason to meet death?" He chuckled to himself.

I stared curiously waiting for the man to say something else.
"It's nice to meet you too" I stated emotionlessly when he didn't say anything.

" Well, we best get going you have got to see your new home; I'm sure you will be pleasantly surprised." This was the only other thing the man- death- said. Then he walked away; I followed not knowing what else to do. We walked for a while talking about this and that (nothing of importance) before we stopped in front of a house that seemed incredible.
" This is yours." - the man smiled, handed me a key and left.
"I do think you will enjoy it here." He called from over his shoulder.

It seems that death is actually a pretty nuce guy.

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Author's note.

Woo, first story is done. Please let me know what you think in the comments. It would be much appreciated.

Clo x
Word count: 688