Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

Prologue

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me.

The Carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality

~Emily Dickinson

More than a hundred and fifty thousand people die every day. More than six thousand die every hour and more than a hundred every minute as we speak.

The thing about loving people is, you would think they will always be there. But this is the harsh reality—people die. And I learned that the hard way.

I was in second grade when I got called to the principal's office for the first time. I had never been a trouble-maker, so it was strange. To be honest, I couldn't get out of my seat when the teacher told me to go. Somehow, I knew that that day was going to be unique. And it wasn't just because it was my eighth birthday.

Somehow, I made it to the door. As I stepped out, the teacher called my attention.

"I'm sorry, Aramis," she said, although she didn't say why.

I could hear my heart ramming inside my throat as I walked the long hallway to the principal's office. No matter how much I slowed my steps trying to delay the inevitable, I got there.

From the upper glass panel of the door, I could see my father sitting in front of Principal Wilkins. They were talking, having these grave expressions that scared me. For about ten seconds, I stared at doorknob, wondering if I should come in.

The principal's assistant cleared her throat, gesturing at me to enter. I was forced to go in and as I did, Dad and Principal Wilkins both looked at me. The principal gestured for me to sit beside my father, which I did.

"You can go home now, Aramis," Principal Wilkins said, smiling ruefully. "I've arranged for you to be excused for the rest of the week."

I was about to ask why when Dad took my hand and towed me to the door. Before we could get out of the room, Principal Wilkins got out of his swiveling chair and caught up with us.

"Aramis! Mr. Rayne! Wait," he called, offering a hand to my dad. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Dad's hand was trembling when he let go of mine to face the principal. Next thing I knew, his fist had already collided with Principal Wilkins' face. The principal staggered back and hit the floor, looking dumbfounded.

"My wife's still alive, you bastard!" Dad growled.

Principal Wilkins spat on the ground and pointed angrily at us. His gums were bleeding. Blood sputtered from his mouth as he yelled at us to get out and never come back. Right then and there, I got expelled. For the first time.

It wasn't common for Dad to get angry, much less hit people. In fact, he had always seemed to be silent, composed. But I knew exactly why he lost his temper. When it came to Mom, it had always been a touchy subject for him.

Mom was sick. Very. I heard it was lupus and she had been going in and out of the hospital for several years because of it. But lately, she had grown very weak that she had to stay in the hospital indefinitely. The decline in her health was so drastic it devastated the both of us. But mostly Dad.

The doctors kept saying that lupus was supposed to be a manageable illness. But for some reason, Mom wasn't getting better. And the more treatments she got, the more pain she seemed to be in.

She had never complained about it. Not even once. All she did was force a smile while telling Dad and me to take care of each other when she's gone.