The Angel of Death has blonde hair and blue eyes. He smiles when he sees you and has the sweetest voice. He loves legos and paints, and he listens to music when he's sad. He has no rythmn, but can make anyplace into a dance floor. Currently, he is in fifth grade, with high marks and a best friend named Roy. I know this all to be true. In fact, the only reason I know this, is because I raised him.

I found him, wandering the trees of the forrest, lost, but not lost, with a smile on his face. A deer stood next to him. A white, transparent deer nuzzled his shoulder. He giggled and offered it a scratch behind the ear.

I called out to him. "Hey, buddy," I tried to sound as sweet as the budding wildflowers next to me. My face was red and puffy from the hike, but I smiled and felt the heat fade from my cheeks. "Are you lost? Where are your parents?"

He didn't asnwer, not right away. He considered the question for a moment and then replied, "I don't think I have any. I was put here, I know that much. And I know for why."

"Oh?" I was curious. "Any why's that?"

"So they know where to go," he said, looking over at the deer gingerly, "And when." The deer seemed to nod at me, as if agreeing with the child.

"Where do they go?" I asked.

"Different places, but all good places."

I stepped a little closer to him and dropped down to my knee. I placed a hand on his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. "And what about you? Do you know where to go?"

"Not usually." When he spoke, I noticed a few missing teeth and the freckles on his cheeks crinkled. "I don't know until I'm there, but I'm always in the right spot." The ghost of the deer stamped its foot impaitently.

"My name is Morgan...what is yours?" I asked the boy.

He looked at me with innocent eyes and stuck out his hand for me to shake. "Pleasure to meet you Morgan. They call me Death."