The Ones Who Bring Death

The one destiny we equally share, as human beings, is that of death. For even the most powerful man will die. Death does not discriminate based on race, or wealth; it hounds us all equally as children of the one we call God from the day that we are born. We humans were not meant to be immortal, our purpose, in the end, has always been simply to perform our affiliated duties on Earth and then fade from existence. However, some children of God are not strong enough. Some of us are weak and lack the courage to face our everyday tasks, and so…these weaker children bring death upon themselves before their selected time. However, instead of being relieved of their mortal burdens, they are punished. These children become death themselves and take on the responsibility of bringing death to the others. More often than not, they are called the Grim Reapers; however, I know them by the term of Shinigami. Invisible death gods that govern a certain set of humans they are assigned to, eliminating those who have reached their expiration date, so to speak. Once a name has been written on the list of Shinigami, said death god induces whatever is lethal enough to kill their target with one blow. Usually a heart attack, a stroke or something trivial such as choking on something consumed at the time, they hardly ever used force. Regrettably, that was not the case with me. Oh, I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not dead, nor am I a death god. Simply a girl, forced into a world of chaos against her own will. Even now, I still remember it perfectly…

The morning air was chilly, it smelled of rain and the wind whipped mercilessly at my bedroom windows, threatening to shatter them if the storm got any worse. It was the wind, actually, that woke me up. Emerald hues stared up at the ceiling in a daze for a moment as I processed what had been going on and it took me a moment to realize that the noise of the wind had simply startled me. I figured it must have been earlier than I usually woke up, seeing as my alarm clock hadn’t woken me with its evil, retched beeping noises, however, as I glanced over to the clock, I was surprised to find that it hadn’t gone off all. That and the fact that I was already about thirty minutes late for school nearly gave me a heart attack.

I clambered out of bed faster than I thought humanly possible and nearly tripped as I made my way to the bathroom. I snatched a brush of the glossy marble counter-tops and ran it through my hair, ignoring the somewhat painful sensation my skull gave off when I racked over a knot too quickly. After that, I quickly penciled some black eyeliner over my pale eyelids, making sure the ends were tapered; bringing out the golden circle’s that accentuated my irises as usual.

I tugged on a long sleeved black shirt with somewhat of a low cut, which I didn’t really mind at the moment. Stone-washed skinny jeans with a hole torn on the surface of my left thigh graced my legs, the hole being a violation of the dress code, which I didn’t really care about anyways. Seeing as it was raining, I also pulled on my black boots that looked somewhat like combat boots and rose to about mid-calf. Wrapping a white and black striped scarf around my neck, I grabbed my shoulder bag and bolted for the front door, nearly tripping over the bottom step of the stairs on my way to the front door. My clumsiness was showing, and I knew it wasn’t long before I actually tripped if I kept testing my luck like this…

Sloshing through the puddles, it took me about twenty minutes until I could see the rusted gray gates of Fellowman High School, and I gave a rather loud gasp for air, stopping a bit to catch my breath. It seemed somewhat odd that there were no students loitering in front of the school like usual, however, I simply shrugged it off and continued on my way, walking a bit slowly seeing as I was already late and all. Looking around, I noticed that not even the skater boys who hung out in the courtyard were present and it seemed a bit weird, but I had simply concluded that they had gotten narked on by the officials. With more than a little force, I slammed my hand down on the little silver bell at Miss Rufield, the attendance woman’s, window. A moment of silence passed as the wind whipped my hair in multiple directions, effectively irritating me enough to ring the bell aggressively a few more times, tapping my foot in rapid succession.