A Deal With Death

The deal was this.

My mother’s cancer would disappear but she would die in five years.

This is if I worked for him, for those five years.

My job was this.

I had to persuade suicides to not commit suicide.

Mr scary death man hated them!

They messed up his list.

He had allocated a specific amount per day but as of recently there have been to many to handle.

He blamed society and I agree its all societies fault, now let’s continue before I rant.

He said they were the bane of his existence to which I questioned his actual existence and he just glared at me.

So I was given my own little black hooded cloak and a special magical scroll,

Oh… -rolls eyes-

It’s actually pretty cool wearing the cloak.

While I was wearing it I was able to teleport or something like that, I really didn’t know.

What I did was look at my list and then say the name to myself and then –poff- I was right by them.

Cool hey?

I had to be quick too because some of them would just instantly turn up at the top of the list.

I couldn’t bring any of these people back to life either and it wasn’t as if they were in a hospital either.

Once the suicides had made up their mind they were on the list, sometimes it’s a spontaneous decision, which is always annoying.

Also on my scroll I have a timer next to each name, when it runs out Mr scary death comes to get them.

When he comes to get them I have no idea what happens,

I don’t even know where they go or if they go somewhere.

He didn’t explain that to me since he thought I didn’t need to know.

Stupid death.

You know he also has a really horrible sense of humour.

He makes horrible jokes especially at me, what I find funny is that no one is there to laugh.

He must be lonely only talking to dying people when he’s taking them.

Yet I don’t feel sorry for him, mean hey?

Actually no it’s not, he’s death whether by choice or not, whatever, he is still death.

So my job.

Stop the suicides.

Sounds simple enough,

If only it was…