A Profusion Of Souls

Chapter 1.

Sheesh, I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I did writing it. *nervously laughs and sweats*

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Death.

One syllable, two vowels, three consonants, four main definitions, and five letters.

What is the exact definition? Is there an exact definition?

If you were to flip open a dictionary, and skim the pages for the word death, you might find something like this:

Death [deth]

Noun.

- The action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.

- The state of being dead.

- The permanent ending of vital processes in a cell or tissue.

- The personification of the power that destroys life, often represented in art and literature as a skeleton or an old man holding a scythe.

And then it goes on about how the word death, can be used to personify the destroyer of life etcetera. But that's so technical, so researched and fact based. But what is death, really? Is it the end of life?

Well none of us know. None of us have been dead before. Some may say that they have skimmed the borderline of life and death; none of us have been truly dead. What does it feel like? Is it peaceful? Is it bliss?

Thoughts like these torment me through the night. Even though it shouldn't bother me as much since I am clairvoyant. Not necessarily physic, but I can see things not normal people can.

My mom always tells me it's a gift, I was specially chosen to be the person with such abilities. Gift? Well I wouldn't really call it that. More of a never-ending nightmare, or in a horror movie I can't escape from. Curse? I don't know if I could even call it that either. I have yet, still to decide.

My point I am trying to get across is this; people underestimate the word death. It's power...it's abilities. I can say this for a fact, I am not dead, but yes I have skimmed that borderline...many of times, yes the dead watches you and is always watching you, and yes, I can watch right back. And being able to watch straight back terrifies me more than anything. Because even for that second of them catching you staring, they know you can see them. And when they know, all hell breaks loose.

My "job", or role in life is this; I have to separate the living from the dead. I am what you might say, the passageway for the dead to cross once they are...dead. Well not really. They don't actually pass through me, but I help them move on; go into the light, find peace.

You see, that is supposed to be my role-but for the last 16 years I have been completely pushing it aside. I pretend I can't hear them, see them, or feel them. Once I pretended they weren't there, they would disappear and go away. It's just easier that way.

Once the "spooks" -as I like to call them- enter the room I'm in, I get these mega headaches from all their energy that's coming off of them, my ears start to ring, my whole body becomes tingly, I can mentally feel what they feel, and the whole room goes ice cold. Call me crazy but it's my sixth sense. I see dead people, literally.

My mom and I used to be this team; she could also see the spooks. She taught me how to ignore them when they needed to be ignored, but I just ignore them all anyway. When she was here, I didn't need to help them pass over, she would take over and do it all. Now thanks to Lung cancer, I have to deal with this all on my own. But my Mom is stubborn so she has some made up excuse for her unfinished business still left on this Earth to stay and help me. She won't tell me it though because she thinks I would try and help her move on, which she doesn't want just yet.