The Painful Truth

Death leaned against the tree and waited. Dusk was falling and the last remaining rays of light fell upon the leaves. One side of the tree was aglow while the other half remained as it always had; burnt, dark and dead. This was the side Death leaned against. He was shrouded in a dark cloak; nothing could be seen except his skeletal hands grasped together in front of him. Impatient foot-tapping was not his style, so he waited there and hummed a song that filled the air with sorrow.

                  “Hello,” Life called out as he wandered down the path. Late again. Life could afford to be carefree; he did not have bodies piling up that needed attention.

                  Death nodded. “Good evening.” His cloak swirled around him as he stood up and walked onto the path. Life stepped back, uncomfortable with their close proximity. His companion had never shown his face and Life had never asked him to. Here, at the crossroads, they could exist in harmony. It would not be wise to jeopardize such a paradise.

                  “Busy day?” Life laughed.  His golden curls were set ablaze by the sun. White tunic, white skin, golden hair, golden eyes; he looked like an angel, if such a thing existed.

                  “No more than usual,” Death’s voice was low and indifferent. Life was used to his cold companion’s laconic manner. But that voice always managed to send shivers down his spine. “Humans have always slaughtered each other; it’s part of their nature.”

                  “I bring them into this world. It is not my duty to babysit them just to make your job easier.”

                  “It was not an accusation. I was merely stating my observations,” Death cracked one bony set of knuckles then the other. The sharp crack of each bone as it readjusted itself caused Life to grimace.

The sun had finally set below the horizon, and the two were now in darkness. Life shivered and grabbed a branch from the tree. He blew onto it, and from its bark, fireflies flew and lit the night. Life looked over at Death, who was half hidden in the darkness. Those skeletal hands seemed to glimmer.

                  Life frowned. “Why do people love me, but hate you?”

                  Death stepped forward till he was toe to toe with his companion. “Because you are a beautiful lie, and I am the painful truth.”

Life jumped back and spit in the dirt, “I am no lie! I am Life, without me, you would be nothing. I give existence. I am the truth, not you.”

“Yes, but you lead your humans to believe they are invincible. Everyone dies; that is the truth.”

Silence fell between the pair. Life refused to look over at his companion. He gritted his teeth in resentment. He felt like a child that had been scolded. Life went about the world, carefree as bird creating existence and Death carried the dead souls away after existence had fled. One could not exist without the other.

“To be or not to be. I believe your man Shakespeare said that,” Death stated. “It should be to live or to die, but that’s just my opinion.”

“You seem to have a lot of opinions,” spat Life. He kicked a pebble on the path and sent it flying into the burnt bark of the tree. Death put a hand on his friend’s arm, but Life shrugged it off.

“I see things as they are. I see humans for what they are. They are born, they live, and they die. That is existence.” Death picked up the stone Life had kicked and crushed it in his palm. He spread the dust in the wind. “It’s all an illusion, a game, if you will.”