Death tells us that he wants to take us on some sort of vacation, right? Astaria Rivers Writer, Hufflepuff Death was one of those things that people either accepted or ran away from. We don't get to choose necessarily when he comes for us, he shows up at our doorstep one day and comes calling. Death tells us that he wants to take us on some sort of vacation, right? Away from the worries of life and on to see the ones we love that went before us.
When I got into the accident, I wish I had died. Death came knocking at my door that day, and I let him in. We talked for a while about this paradise on a beautiful island, and he sold it very well. I was ready in that moment to leave behind the pain from the burns, the broken leg and whatever else the doctors said I had wrong with me and go somewhere without it where I could sip on some tropical drink, hang out with my grandparents while hoping they didn't appear in this other world wearing bathing suits because that might be odd, and merely relax. No more worries, only happiness. We stepped out the door together, and we began walking towards the pier. Along the way, traffic became crazy. No one was watching the stop lights which made the pedestrian crossings difficult to cross without getting hit. I know it doesn't make sense considering Death was already with me so is it really that big of a deal if I would happen to get hit by a car in this near-death fantasy anyway? Still, Death paused and told me to wait. So we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, the traffic dispersed, and we could cross. I heard the bell signaling the boat getting ready to take off towards the island. I picked up my pace, and Death ran alongside me, but unfortunately, when we reached the dock, I had missed it and the boat was already gone. I felt angry at first and then sad, but then Death turned to me and said, "It's not your time just yet. That's why you had to miss it." It felt strange hearing those words from Death as if he wasn't ready to take another soul quite yet, but I smiled at him and opened my eyes to the bright lights in the white room. Not yet. He was right. That paradise could wait a little longer.
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AuthorPoetry poetry poetry! This is where submissions get a bit more creative than most, and it's a wonder how many HOLers (particularly the eagles) are filled with fabulous artsyness. Archives
June 2019
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