Salvation
"Please, let me leave here tonight."
In the aftermath of the strewn furniture,
Amongst the broken bottles and anger,
Kassidy Lewis lay in fetal position, crying.
Her neck throbbed from her mother's hands.
Her legs felt like they'd been torn off.
Her torso was covered in footprints.
Her face still carried the handprint,
Reminding her again that her mother
Always prefers the company of men over her.
No matter what they did to Kassidy,
The men always won. She'd stopped trying.
"Are you okay?"
Kassidy peered up to see her younger brother,
Standing in his diaper holding his teddy bear.
The people had come for him last year and left her,
But he always visited when life got too rough.
She mouthed his name and he smiled.
Offering his free hand, he asked her,
"Are you ready to come with me now?"
Kassidy looked teary-eyed at him.
"I can't leave Mommy with him or he'll hurt her."
"Do still you hate Mommy, Kassy?"
Kassidy lie still, thinking back to the last time.
She'd regretted hating her mother since then.
"No. I could never hate her."
Her brother smiled and pulled Kassidy to her feet.
Her legs no longer hurt, her face wasn't hot anymore,
Her mouth smiled with ease andher belly no longer rumbled.
Gripping her brother's hand tightly, she followed
Through the chaos of the room, past her drunk mother,
Over her abusive stepfather through the back door.
Running now, the two kids ran towards the fence,
With her brother going first, Kassidy confidently hopped over
Into the warmth of the sunlight and ran into the clouds.
"Almost time." Miles groaned as he got up from his bed. He followed his daily routine. Headed downstairs, made himself some coffee, and went off. On his way to his car, He felt a strange pain. "Ugh, I'm too old for this."
He headed back inside, opened the drawer, took out his tablets, and sat on the couch. He counted them before tossing them in his mouth and swallowing them. He turned on the T.V. Flipping through channels, something caught his eyes. A news report claiming old people who work and deal with stress die quicker than those who retired early. "These idiots don't know anything other than to state the obvious! Of course they'd die faster!" He turned the T.V off, throwing the remote to the side. He looked at his blurry reflection on the T.V. "*sigh* I am growing old. I should retire." He said to himself outloud.
Miles got up from the couch, and headed back to his car. This time on his way there, he fainted. Luckily, his neighbor called the ambulance and he was rushed to the hospital. His family members were alerted to this, and rushed to the hospital. "I'm sorry... He won't make it. He has about 10 hours left. You may see him now." The nurse said. She clearly has done this before. The heartless expression on her face said it all. As his family members entered the room, he lay on his bed smiling. "It's over for me?" The son nodded. "Heh, had a feeling. Never really thought I'd be here though. Me on a bed, about to die, and you staring at me. Speaking of death, here it comes right now." Miles said, pointing towards It. Miles was the only one who could see it. He looked his family one last time. His heart stopped. The room filled with sadness. His son stared at him as his mother tried to call the nurse. Miles was smiling. In his last moments, he looked at those precious to him and smiled.
Death is
Death is relief
a soothing balm,
shelter from the harsh storm
that is life
Death is an end
to all the heartbreak
and pain and tears,
a release
Death is cruel
stealing loved ones
from you
whenever, wherever
Death is silence
a moment of peace
from the chatter of the world
and your mind
Death is blind
it comes in lapping waves
for everyone and everything
there one minute, gone the next
Death is balance
the changing of the tides
the bringing of an end
the completion of a circle
Death is inevitable
and one day,
death will knock on your door
to whisk you away
somewhere nobody knows.
at least, they don't know yet.
Our Last Friend
Death is Life giving you one final kiss. Life is all around us constantly. It is there when you wake up. It is there when you walk through the neighborhood. It is their when you listen to the whispers that travel between the trees. It is there at night when you go to sleep.
Death is there too. For all those things. Death is always paitently waiting. Smiling as it watches you enjoy those things. Watching as you bring joy and happiness to other people. Watching as you lay back and smile back at an early morning sunrise. Watching and wishing it could comfort you when you go through sadness and heartbreak, but knowing it is not time.
Death is there for all creatures. For all life. Death is forced to sit on the sidelines by itself. Death is forced to be alone while Life gets to experience everything.
Death is not sad though. Everything might experience Life, but they always end up with Death. Death is kind. It will be there for you constantly. Death will wait for you. It may not always play out as expected, but everyone's last kiss with Life comes in the end. That is when Death tells you it'll be ok.
#death #fiction #inflection #prose #challenge #life
The Shepherd of Heaven and Hell
The hit was hard, hard enough to deploy the airbags. He had come out of nowhere, running the light and plowing into Felix’s red SUV. The driver’s side door was caved in and the front glass had become a spider web.
He was lucky to be alive.
He could feel something wet and warm running down the side of his face. Blood, he thought, from hitting my head. He felt no pain and remembered from somewhere that head wounds tended to bleed a lot, regardless of the severity. That made him feel better.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. Sirens meant help, and help was important. Felix tried to move, but couldn’t budge. Something had him pinned. Either that or he was paralyzed. Felix thought that likely when he tried to move his hands and got no response.
Please hurry, he thought.
The sirens came closer until they stopped, replaced by the chugging of a diesel engine. He could hear voices outside, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Something about tools. Felix sighed and wished they would hurry. The blood from his head was starting to concern him.
He heard something slam into his door and more shouting. The words they said were becoming increasingly jumbled, making them sound foreign. He was only a few blocks from home right? What was a foreign rescue team doing here?
As his door came off with a crunch, Felix could see flashing lights and men in tan and yellow. He was pulled from his car and placed on a stiff board. Felix tried to remember what that was called, but his mind wasn’t working right.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Once he was strapped onto the uncomfortable board with the uncomfortable device around his neck, he watched as the figures in tan and yellow checked him over. They touched his neck and wrist before standing and moving off. Only one came back, one figure who was very different than the others.
He wore black, which seemed oddly appropriate. Where the others had become misshapen blobs which spoke in gibberish, this man was clear. His black suit was immaculate and he wore a pair of black gloves. His face was young and his eyes black as night. Upon his forehead he bore a brand in the shape of a scythe.
“Who are you?” Felix asked. He was shocked when he realized his mouth hadn’t moved.
“I am your guide,” the man said, his voice seeming to come from nowhere. It was deep and hollow, a voice that shouldn’t be.
“Why do I need a guide?”
“The way forward is dangerous. Many beings inhabit the plane between mortality and the abyss, none of which you want to meet. I serve Death and aid him in his appointed task. Please, come with me.”
“But,” Felix began. He was about to protest, to voice his inability to move off the spine board when he noticed he wasn’t confined to it anymore. “Am I okay?”
“No. Please, follow me.”
“I’m dead, aren’t I?”
The man with the midnight eyes turned to Felix and sighed. “Yes, you have left the mortal realm. You are in great peril here, in the void between worlds. Please, we must keep moving.”
“What kind of peril?”
“Demons stalk these lands, looking for those living who are sensitive to them that they may torment. When they come across souls that have crossed and fallen behind their guides, they devour the soul and send it to the abyss for all eternity. Please keep close.”
“Does that make you the Grim Reaper?” Felix asked.
The man stared at him. “What you know as the Grim Reaper isn’t like me. His name is Death and he is the Shepherd of Heaven and Hell. Those whose flame has flickered out are retrieved by his servants and brought to him, that he may render judgment.”
“Am I destined for Heaven or Hell?”
“That is for him to decide.”
Felix looked back at the ruin of his car, his mortal form on the ground now covered with a tarp and the firemen that were pulling a drunk from the other car. A tear rolled down his cheek and he turned, leaving all of it behind.
“Lead on.”
Who Is...
Death, the end, over, darkness. It comes for the vessal you have occupied since the beginning. Thoughts, emotions, feelings, your looks, your smell, the sound of your voice, the feel of your touch; all put into one place, locked behind someone else's memories.
Only a name remains if you once used it. The one put on paper now lays etched into the stone that weighs you down; addressing your final resting place.
Mysterious, calculating, unforgiving, unannounced, interrupting your agenda, your day, your dreams, your future. Nondiscriminating, all are welcome, all are invited to stay.
Surprised, but why? Warned since day one, tomorrow's a maybe. Spontaneous, disliked, feared, yet forgotten; for now, until a time an unknown hand is placed upon your shoulder.
Silence, then sleep, nothing to gain, it just is. No feelings, no emotion, no remorse, never hidden, always entitled, never wrong, blameless, final; This is death.
Death is a Deadline
Why do we do things?
Aside from the benefits of whatever task we're trying to complete, why do we get out of bed and decide to help? What makes us act so urgently in our lives, hoping to find love, a job, a home, a family?
Death.
Without death, motivation would be almost non-existent. We could put things off for hundreds of years, and never complete them, because there would be no stakes.
Death is a blessing. It is what makes our lives meaningful, because we can die knowing that we've accomplished something. Like the deadline on the ten-page paper you haven't started yet but will inevitably finish the night before it's due, death keeps us motivated. It reminds us that there is a limit to what we can do, so we have to make every moment count.