The Lingering Presence of Death

Soft Glow

Death used to throw pebbles at my feet every night, letting me know he was there, in case I ever decided the terrain I traveled on was too rough for my sore feet. He watched my carful steps, and followed along behind me. I never turned to look at him, he was a simple daydream, a whisper on the wind, easily mistaken as a happy hallucination.

I spent years walking a tightrope made of weathered tiny threads that barely sustained my weight before I reached the cliffside on the other end, desperately clinging to it as the rope snapped under me, falling into the raging ocean below.

I spent my nights watching the waves below crash against the rock I now called home. I spent the daylight watching the burns on my hands turn to rough pink scars that would stain my skin for the rest of time. I spent my everything watching the soft warm glow of the sun ahead of me.

Once I had decided to leave the bare rock behind and head on my journey, had I noticed that I no longer felt Death following behind. Instead, I was met with a warm glow, and delicate butterflies caressing my cheeks and fluttering across my skin, as the world exploded with pastels around me.

Happiness. I danced across the fields of color and let the cold memories free, and the soft skies gobbled them up, making them disappear altogether.

Though my scars still slept peacefully on my palms, I didn't mind them. They made me beautiful, unique.

And though my gloomy partner who stood by my side since the very beginning was gone, I didn't mourn him.

Death was never my enemy. My only enemy was the raging sea of despair that lie in wait below for my foot to slip. Death was simply there to catch me when I fall.

Fall I did not. I reached the prize that Life had crafted me when I completed her test.

And I was happy.