Reaper: Book 1

Reminiscing With Pierre Pt.1

" where to first?" I ask Pierre. "New York. This pandemic is the cause of all of these deaths". She said. "Oh yes, that's been going around. The world is in a panic. Can you believe we had a toilet paper shortage?! Haha, dumb people." I say laughing. Pierre looked at me confused. "What time are you from if it's ok to ask?" "I was born in 1846," She says as she puts her hands on her hips. "I know what toilet paper is! I'm not stupid! But why in the world would there be a shortage?" She asked. "Don't ask me. Haha, when the pandemic hit everyone started hoarding it for their lives. Like I said dumb." I said shrugging. She shivers "I hate when people do that. My father would collect napkins, he was a germaphobe so every time something was dirty he would grab a napkin and clean it.""Haha, I knew some people who were like that". I laughed.

Time cane to reap the first soul. I swiftly swing my scythe at the lady's throat and she dropped to the floor. Her record busted out if her chest and Pierre began to write. We went back and forth for a while until there was one left. It was a waiting game as he was to die in fifteen minutes from alcohol poisoning. " what a lame way to die." I said. "Tell me about it. So tell me about yourself while we wait," she said. " I don't really like talking about it. But I was severely abused as a child. I still have some of the scars from it." I said parting some of my hair. She looked at it and frowned. There were numerous scars. One was from a meat tenderizer. "Ah, I see. You don't have to go into detail yet, but when classes start you have to. Mine is a little more... complicated. It's a long story" She said sitting next to me. "We have some time. I don't mind unless you don't want to."

She sits next to me. "Well, I suppose I could. My mother died a few hours after I was born, and of course my father blamed me. He only called me names and stuff like that until I started to show an interest in feminine things. When I was eight I asked my father if I could grow my hair out, he started yelling at me and calling me a sinful mistake, then punched me in the stomach. I tried not to look at dresses or makeup but I couldn't help but feel strange in my body. Eventually, I found a guy I liked, and as soon as my father found out he locked me in the cellar without food Ir water for eight days. I was able to suppress my love for feminine things until I was sixteen. I tried to stand up to my father. He said he wished I was never born. I honestly don't blame him. He beat me and starved me for years, but then he crossed the line. One day he told me that I would have to marry a distant cousin. We married on my eighteenth birthday and conceived a child a few months after, but the child died before It had a chance at life a few months later, my wife died to the flu. My father thought I killed them so he locked me in the basement until I turned nineteen. I just... couldn't take it so I found a knife and ended it all."

I set down my scythe. "Oh my God! There is nothing wrong with liking things. I had lots of friends who were transgender and they were great. Hell, I'm more of a tomboy than anything." I told her. "Well, it took a long time before I could properly call myself a woman. Even now I'm scared to put on my makeup." She says looking down. My mother wanted her men over me and my dad choose his booze so I was left with my father after they split. He beat me every day with his fists or any object. His favorite was a meat tenderizer. I would often be forced to stand in a corner for days and nights. Sometimes tired up. Go without for days. Kept from school. I finally told my teacher what was going on since I was 3. She said I was the worst case she had ever seen. That's why I don't eat a whole lot. And I tend to keep to myself unless asked. I don't deal with conflicts well and I panic. To the point, I can't breathe." I shuddered at the memory.

"That last part is highly relatable. I don't do well with confrontation. I'm always asked if I'm ok, even though I know I'm not I always say yeah, because I dont want anyone worrying about me. I'm one person, I'm not something to be dwelled on."It... it feels nice to talk about it, but I don't like having to relive it. she said. I looked over at her. "I may be young but I was forced to grow up quickly. it does. And relieving it sucks. I still have nightmares. I wake up bawling and in a panic attack. That's why I try to stay awake most of the time." "I just can't seem to sleep. Everywhere I look reminds me that I'm not what my father wanted me to be" I shook my head. "I can relate. I was made to be perfect. One wrong move or a huff or say the wrong thing and wack! I wasn't allowed to see my friends unless I was at school. I was everyone's maid. Forced to play with my little cousins. I hated kids at one point." Pierre looked over to me. "I still hate kids. I've always hated them, but babies I can handle". She said. We reaped the man's soul and went back to the hotel. Pierre decided to take the day off as she didn't feel well.