Lessons of a Reaper

A beautiful end

Death stood back, resisting both the urge to take Alaya's soul and Alana's plea to take hers instead. He was familiar with watching humans respond to death, however this was a scene he could not bear. Perhaps because he considered Alana a friend and for once his role and his personal feelings had finally clashed with each other.

Tears stained her innocent, and youthful, face as she clung to her sister's hands with a grip so strong it was as though she was attempting to hold her soul so death could not take it. She stroked her sister's face as though trying desperately to remember every freckle and perfection it had. Turning to Death so begged, "Please. Please. Not her. Please, she's so young. We're both so young".

Death was not bound by the human concept of age, nor would he be able to resist the growing compulsion any longer. But for Alana, he would try for as long as he could. "That is not how this works. You know that." His tone was grave yet he hoped his words would penetrate her frenzied mind.

She turned back to her sister, mouth agape as cries broke from her lips. "I know. I know" she said, her voice barely audible through her whales of pain. But her cries were soon brought to an abrupt stop as she realised something. "My parents. Oh god, my parents. They need to be here. They need to see this." She turned to death and pleaded. "Please. Please hold off while i ring my parents. They need to be with her. She can't die alone." Without waiting for a response, Alana rolled herself out of the room, on her way to retrieve her phone and inform her parents.

In her absence, Death approached Alaya. She was dying from an undetected blood clot in the brain, the cause of her coma, alongside brain damage caused by the accident. Death had often passed through her room to see her parents crying at her bedside, yet despite their suffering they always seemed to put on a brave face for Alana.

Poor Alana.

Despite her plea, Death was unable to resist any longer. And even if he was, he knew deep down that Alana was not strong enough to witness the death of her sister. Despite her showing a high level of maturity and understanding when accompanying him when he took the souls of others, he was all too familiar with the strength of human emotions; her love for her sister would over power her rational mind. This was a death Alana would not be able to witness. And so, with the lightest of touch, death caressed Alaya's face.

He knew what would follow; her heart would stop, Alana would enter the room, phone in hand, desperately pleading with her parents to come as fast as they could, only to realise that it was too late. Alana would cry and beckon the doctors with her screams of grief. Within his life time, he had witnessed the grief of thousands of humans, all varying in intensity. But this was a death he could not bear to witness the consequences of because despite his reluctance to get attached to Alana, he found himself experiencing an uncomfortable feeling upon the image of Alana being in pain.

So, upon taking Alaya's soul, Death did not wait for Alana's return. Instead, he left the room. He left the ward with a heavy feeling in his chest.

Alana, despite her healing body, was starved of emotions as she lay there, numb to the world. The death of her twin had appeared to strip her down to the most basic of human levels, the grief and pain like an acid melting away any happiness she had. An empty void was left in the place of her sister. Where there should be her presence, which often brought happiness and joy because of her bubbly character, there was instead a silence dwelled. Alana would vaguely remember doctors, nurses, and even her parents coming in to visit but she was vacant, occupied by thoughts of Alaya. Memories polluted Alana's mind, ones of them sneaking out together at night, eating the chocolates which their mum tried to hide, and even taking their mum's car out for a snip whenever she was asleep.