My Friend Death

Everyone on this planet they call Earth is afraid of one thing above all else. Falling from the sky, dogs, physical contact, being social, but all of that is trumped by death. I see it differently, death is beautiful and that’s why I befriended him. When I was seven my Mother was taken from me in a car accident (broken neck and ruptured spleen). That’s where I seen him the first time, taking my mom away. We talked about life, his job and me. This sparked my interest in the power of being forward and ripping away a life. By ten with Death’s help I had killed multiple animals. Dissecting them, stitching them up and bringing them “Back to life”. I wondered why they didn’t move the same when I gave the life back. He explained to me how souls work and how energy cannot just randomly be created even if the heart transplant is a success. That next year my Father was murdered. Caught in gang violence he had become the middle man between them. He was hit in the middle of a crosswalk breaking both knees and projecting him thirty feet. The flight left him with shattered ribs, a punctured lung and road rash on his arms, legs, and back. They just left him there bleeding out and it was another six hours before police arrived on the scene.

At least that’s what Death told me. The call I received at the school from the police said he died peacefully in the home. Unfortunately I then moved in with my grandma for the next seven years. My grandma was immobile on hos-pis by the time graduation came around. No one but death was cheering for my accomplishment. I drove home ecstatic about my success and future, and on the way I received a call that my grandma had past right after I left that morning. Truly I had never cried over any of their deaths. Love is infinite and I realized when my Mother died that there’s no way she could've loved me. The only person who’s ever loved me is death and I love him all the same. So, I decided to live with him. I drove to a party on twenty pieces of Motrin and Ibuprofen, drank one fifth of a bottle of Bacardi and smoked a blunt. I proceeded to snort an eight ball and took a tab of acid. Finally numb someone took me upstairs (probably to clean me and sober me up). I told the man to leave and that I would help myself. It was obvious to me at that point that I was nearly incomprehensible because of the look of utter confusion on his face. He did leave though and at that point I could finally touch my friend.

He looked at me, my eyes bloodshot with foam dripping slowing onto my chest. He smiled so I smiled back. Somehow signaling I was ready. He took his chilling hands around my neck pulling me to his forehead and slowly sliding me underwater. All the drugs I injected pale in comparison to the true euphoria of death. I’m glad he chose me.