Deaths Diary (Entry 61)

Entry Sixty-one

I don’t know why…but I felt the need to share this story. It happened only a few days ago and the incident has been on my mind since. I’m sure you’d much rather me talk about the incident in Paris that I had to go and handle…and I’m sure I’ll talk about that at some point, but first I must get this off my chest…it happened 4 days ago at a small hospital. There was a girl inside…only 10 years old. She was dying…and I had come for her. She’d been battling Leukemia...a disease I’d love to see gone from this world. As I walked into the hospital room I just looked at her.
Taking the soul of a child is such a hard thing to do for me, as a child is something I feel resembles innocence. This child looked like she was one step from me, so it must have been time. She was sleeping, and her body was pale. Her head was smooth and hairless as a bowling ball, and her little limbs were so weak and thin that you could’ve slipped them between bicycle spokes. Outside in the waiting room were her parents, talking with doctors about her chances…none of them knowing that I was already there waiting…I only had 5 minutes.
She woke up…stirred a little. Her head turned and she looked at me…she gazed upon Death.

Few people see me…and those that do have mixed responses. Those that see Death before them often times show fear or horror, but this girl…this weak child only stared. She did not smile but she did not scream…she just looked at me, almost like she was confused by my presence. And yet, she seemed to know precisely what I was there for…and the thought alone made me look down at my feet.
“Hello?” She asked me. So few people ever speak to me that I was not sure what to say at first. I nodded back, giving her a gentle hello in return.
“Why are you here?” Was her next question. I looked at her for a moment and frowned. I did not lie to her, but I did my best to soften the reality. I told her: “I’ve come to take you with me.” She nodded her head a little.
“I can’t walk…” She responded.
“I know. I will carry you.” I answered again. We both fell silent for a moment, and she then breathed a low and shallow breath.
“Can Mommy and Daddy come too?” She asked. I shook my head apologetically.
“No.” I answered simply. There was no way to sugar coat that answer…not to a child. She hugged the teddy bear in her bed and whimpered just slightly.
“I’m scared…” She muttered. I was used to that response. Most are scared. Even the bravest often show true fear when faced with my approach. But I knew that was small comfort to her. “Does it hurt?” She asked.
That’s another question I get asked a lot. Does it hurt? It all depends on the method rather than the actual thing. In truth, it rarely ever ‘hurts’ in the sense of physical pain…but hurt can have many forms to many people, so I never really know how to answer that. But the fact she asked it at all seemed to demonstrate she had some knowledge of what was about to happen. I could not try to spin this in a positive way…not now.
“No.” I answered her. Perhaps it was a lie…but I didn’t want her to be too scared. She didn’t need that right now. I had a minute left…her time was almost up. I rose from my seat and walked towards her and she looked up to me. Her tiny hand held out to me and I took it.
“Will you stay with me?” She choked. I nodded back and I sat on the bed with her as she held my hand. I do not often do this…and I suppose I might should do it more often. She held on tightly as the seconds ticked by and I watched her carefully. Finally, the moment struck and I reached down and embraced her. Call it a Death’s Embrace.

Her soul slid into my arms like water from a faucet…she was ready to go. Her limp little body lay lifeless on the bed and the machines monitoring her heartbeat began to scream, announcing her passing and my presence. I stood up as the doctors ran in to try and revive her…but I was not letting her soul go. I couldn’t…her parents ran in too, teary eyed and crying. They saw me walk by…I’m sure they did. That why they were crying. But the girl…her soul…it did not cry. It merely held my coat and I cradled her.
I do not often have conversations with those that I come for, but I did take a look down at the soul in my arms and I asked it a single question:
“Did it hurt?” I asked. The soul looked up at me and said two simple words:
“Not me.” She answered. Perhaps it was the child recognizing the pain in her parents hearts…or perhaps she meant the pain in my own heart. But I knew that she meant it…and her words were profound. She no longer felt pain, and yet she was sympathetic to the pain of others.

I did not hesitate in my actions. I did what I needed to. I carried her soul off to Heaven and let her go. Moments like those are truly rare…I never quite know how to take them. Perhaps you would call me a sentimental type…and maybe it’s true. I’ve been at this job far longer than you can imagine, and yet I can continue to be surprised and amazed by humanity and by children. For good and for bad.
Again, I am not sure why I told you that story…I’m not sure what made it resonate with me so. I just felt the need to…talk. I need to return to work however. I have more souls to collect...and perhaps more hands to hold.