Becoming Death

by Melissa Brown

  I shook my head at my aunt, worried she would upset Clarissa.

  “It’s alright,” Clarissa reassured me. “Aunt Jessica, I’m afraid the father isn’t in the picture, but I’m alright with that. I can do this on my own.”

  “What about this new job? Won’t they be worried about losing you after you have the baby?” Jessica asked.

  “As I said, I’ve been very fortunate. They were very understanding of my new responsibilities during the contract negotiations. They wanted my input into the team so badly they were willing to grant me extended maternity leave. Plus when that finishes they have a excellent nursery on site, so I’ll be able to be close to the baby when I end up going back to work.”

  My mother held Clarissa’s shoulders, shaking them slightly. “I am so proud of how well you have handled all of this pressure. Losing your job and carrying a baby could have been stressful, but you’ve handled it so well.”

  I tapped my foot under the table, trying to get my mother’s attention. “Clarissa isn’t the only one with a new job. I got one too, Mom.”

  “It’s about time. Good for you, Madison, but this your sister’s moment.” She turned back to Clarissa. “Have you thought about names yet?”

  I crumpled my napkin.

  My grandmother, sensing my embarrassment, asked, “What’s your new job?”

  “I’m a mourner at funerals,” I explained to her.

  She wrinkled her eyebrows. “Is that a job now? In my day people did that for free.”

  “Sounds strange,” said Aunt Jessica.

  “It’s not as bad as you think. We work for people who won’t have many guests at their funeral. Fill the seats, make the dead feel valued.”

  Aunt Jessica tilted her head. “How would they know? They’re dead.”

  “It’s about giving them that peace of mind before their death”

  My grandmother scratched the table. “Well congratulations anyway, dear. It sounds like a suitable job for a reaper. It will be a good cover for you.”

  “That’s not why I took it. I think it helps the people the dead leave behind. It makes a real difference to people seeing all the seats full for their loved ones,” I said.

  “I’m sure it does,” Aunt Jessica said. “So, Clarissa, what are we naming this baby?”

  I pulled out my phone hoping for a text from Aaron on my way home from my mother's. I sighed as I realized although I had a message, I also had another victim to collect a soul from. The New Client screen looked different than normal with the word urgent blinking underneath it. I rubbed my forehead and opened the client information.

  Name: Lily Peterson

  Age: Unborn

  Current location: On route to St Jude’s hospital

  Additional instructions: Baby’s soul to be removed from mother Amy Peterson’s body.

  I leaned back in my car seat, taking in the gravity of my next victim’s death. A stillborn baby. When I had started as a reaper, I had never thought I would be forced to take the soul of anyone truly young. I had assumed someone must take the souls of the babies and children but that kind of thing was handled by experienced, specialized reapers.

  I thought of my sister. Clarissa had spent most of the weekend discussing her pregnancy plans with my mother. Was our family being punished for creating life instead of death? I was ashamed of this request. Death wanted me to end Lily Peterson’s life before it could even begin. I thought about not going, letting Lily have time to be born, but I knew if I stayed another reaper would be called to do the dirty work.

  I cursed Death with every swear word in my vocabulary on the way to the hospital. Although, he wasn’t with me, I could feel him watching me. He’d be pleased with my displeasure at my current task. Although I’d only met Death once, I pictured someone like Riga Tony—a fat, ugly blob of a man with cracked yellow teeth and blotchy skin—cackling at me. He’d ask if I was ready for a real challenge and I’d hang my head in shame.

  I didn’t have a description of what Amy Peterson looked like, so I stood outside the doors of the hospital checking the name of every pregnant woman that passed me to see if they were Amy. Five minutes after I had started my search, a taxi pulled up and the driver rushed around to the passenger side door. A Hispanic woman with hair tied into a knot at the back of her head squeezed herself out of the taxi with the help of the driver. Once she was standing on her own, he abandoned her, climbing back into his cab.

  She struggled to stay on her feet as she threw a wad of cash into his window. “You’re lucky I didn’t give birth in your backseat. Learn how to use the gas petal.”

  He growled but pulled away without another word.

  I ran forwards as I saw her knees buckle under the pain. “Are you alright?”

  “This baby is coming, right now. What are you staring at? Get over here and help me inside.” She winced in pain, closing her eyes. She held onto the side of a pillar.

  “I—of course, let me help you,” I said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and walking slowly towards the entrance. “What’s your name?”

  “Amy.”

  Bingo. I had the right pregnant lady.

  “Yours?” She leaned against me as we entered the hospital.

  “Molly.”

  I knew had to mark that baby as quickly as possible. Amy could deliver at any minute, plus it would be nearly impossible to get anywhere near her once she had checked into the hospital. I thought about reaching out and groping this woman’s stomach to get this over with quickly but resisted the urge.

  I spotted an empty wheelchair and guided her towards it. “Sit down.”

  Her screams were unintelligent now. Lowering her into the wheelchair, I noticed her shirt had ridden to reveal a thin strip of bare skin along her stomach. I took a moment to roll up my sleeves before I leaned down in front of her. It was now or never. What choice did I have?

  “I’m going to get a nurse and we’re going to get her out of you,” I said as I patted her stomach. I felt myself shiver as I took the soul of the baby. Unlike previous occasions, there were no memories. My face fell. This was wrong, so wrong.

  “Molly, I’m scared, please don’t leave me,” she said, gripping my wrist.

  I shook her grip away. “I need to find a nurse. They’ll be able to help.”

  “Please hurry. I think something is wrong,’ Amy muttered, running a hand over her stomach.

  My eyes softened as I turned away from her and ran down the hall to find help. I was only gone about a minute but when we returned Amy was sat silently crying in the wheelchair. A trail of blood dripped down her leg. She held her stomach.

  “Oh my,” the nurse said next to me. She took Amy’s hand.

  “It just happened so fast. Why am I bleeding? Is the baby okay?” Amy asked, her voice cracking.

  “We need to get you to a bed. You and your baby will be fine. Don’t worry.” The nurse said before pushing the wheelchair quickly down the hall.

  I watched the trail of blood follow Amy’s wheelchair as it turned down the hall. Once again, I’d fulfilled my destiny.

  Since becoming a mourner, I had been to more funerals than I could count but today’s had been the most disturbing. Lily Peterson hadn’t had a life. Her coffin was tiny and closed but next to it sat a picture of Lily when she had been born. The child’s skin was blue and her eyes were closed. She never had a chance.

  I knew I shouldn’t be here. Lily’s mother could recognize me, but I stood at the back and used my obfuscation. Amy didn’t cry. Instead, she sat near the front silently holding a stuffed rabbit in her lap. She still seemed stunned by the events that had occurred earlier in the week, and I wished I knew the words to comfort her but that wasn’t my place.

  My latest kill haunted my daily thoughts. A baby. This had to be the kind of test Ms. Winters had spoken about. A test of my loyalty to my role as a reaper. A test of how far I would push myself and the amount of humanity I’d give up to keep myself alive. I felt sick as I thought of my siste
r, how she would cope if she had bonded with her baby for months in the womb only to never be able to meet them or be part of their life.

  It was official in my mind: Death was a monster hell-bent on bringing only misery to others. I didn’t want to be part of his plans anymore. I’d seen firsthand how my actions had affected the friends and family of each victim. I was sure this wasn’t just population control; he had to get some sort of sick sense of glee out of killing and destroying families.

  My future looked bleak. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up this role until I cracked. In our brief time together as a couple, being with Aaron and starting a family someday seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to be with him. Neither of us had said it yet but it was clear we loved each other. Someday when we were older, I wanted to have a family with him. I could picture it in my mind’s eye: Aaron holding a baby girl, like Lily, cooing at her and proud to be a father. A baby destined with a similar fate as mine, to be Death’s slave, to murder and feel constant guilt for their actions. I hugged my shoulders. It didn’t matter how perfect of a future I imagined, Death didn’t seem the type to just roll over and give me everything I wanted. I wanted to be finished following Death’s rules. I wanted to feel alive again.

  Chapter 20

  As soon as I got into our apartment, I grabbed Aaron’s hand and dragged him towards our bedrooms.

  “Mads, slow down. What’s going on?” he asked, following behind me.

  I stopped and pushed him against the hallway wall. I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Life is short, but I’m starting to realize how much time I’ve wasted.”

  “It wasn’t wasted. We just used it differently.”

  I held a finger to his lips. “You’re special to me. I need you to know how much I care about you.”

  He touched my cheek. “I feel it every time we’re together. The spark every time I touch you, hold you or kiss you.”

  I took his hand again and led him the rest of the way to his bedroom. I crawled onto his bed and motioned for him to join me. He laid down across from me and we faced each other. I inched closer, burying my face in the warmth of his chest.

  “I want to be with you,” I said, my voice shaky as I said the words.

  He rubbed my arm. “Are you sure? We haven’t been together that long. I don’t want to pressure you into something we’re not ready for. We can always wait, try to make it more special.”

  “I’m already nervous—that would make it worse. Plus I don’t want to build it up. It will just make us both nervous wrecks for weeks. I want our first time to be natural, to express how we both feel right now.” I kissed him again, deeper this time, more needy. For a few minutes, I wanted to be the old Madison again, not some kind of zombie reaper that fed off the life-force of others.

  He stroked my face, his eyes shining. “Okay, if you want this we’ll do it, because I’ve always loved you.”

  “Even when we were five?” I asked.

  “Yeah, you were a cute kid,” he admitted.

  “I knew there was a reason you always pulled my hair.”

  “I wasn’t very smart then. I had to find a way to get your attention,” he said.

  I smiled and his eyes linked with mine, thankful for this moment. “I love you too.”

  We watched each other for a few moments, our breathing slowing, entwining. A heat between us grew as we both mentally prepared ourselves for what we were about to do.

  “Do you have protection?” I asked. There was already one pregnant member the Clark family, no need for another. If Clarissa wasn’t sure she was ready for the responsibly of a baby, there was no way I was.

  “Oh, yeah, of course.” He turned over and fumbled with the drawer next to him.

  I sat up and removed my hair tie. My hair fell wildly around my face and I combed it through it with my fingers a few times.

  Successful, Aaron turned back over to me holding a packet in his hand.

  “Is this okay? I kind of wish I would have dressed up, made myself look nicer for you,” I said, looking down at my ratty black t-shirt and jeans.

  He dropped the packet between us. “You’re beautiful, Mads. Just like I imagined you would be,” he told me, resting his fingers on my hips.

  I blushed, laying back down across from him. So much for not being nervous. “So how do we start?”

  He rubbed his palms together. “Why is this so difficult? I like you, I like this, but I feel like anything I do will mess this up.”

  My face softened and I took his hand. It was sweaty but I didn’t care. “Why don’t you tell me how you imagined us together the other day and we can try to make it a reality?”

  Aaron coughed and his voice broke as he said, “Mads, I don’t know if I can do that. We haven’t even started to kiss yet and I’m already feeling like I’m doing everything wrong.”

  I kissed his cheek. “You haven’t. I think we just need to take this slowly and be honest with each other every step of the way.”

  He smiled and pulled me into his arms.

  I woke up hours later spooned against Aaron dressed in only in my t-shirt. I yanked the hem of the shirt down, trying to cover my thighs, before shifting to pull the blankets around us, cocooning us together. The sound of Aaron’s steady breathing in my ear was oddly comforting against the backdrop of death I was used to. I wasn’t alone anymore. I was loved. I ran my fingers over his hand, feeling the relief of being able to touch someone without the mark of death. I held his hand loosely, imagining our relationship in the future.

  At first, all I could picture was all the stuff we already did on a daily basis, like lying on the sofa together watching TV, eating dinner together or just talking in bed while the other one listened. As I thought about it longer, lying together in front of the TV turned into making out on the sofa with the TV on in the background for noise; eating dinner became dinner at romantic restaurants complete with violins and roses; and talking in bed soon also turned into lovemaking.

  I turned over. I couldn’t help myself from taking in the contours of my boyfriend’s body—something I never would have thought of doing a couple weeks earlier. I tiptoed my fingers across the bed before tracing the rise and fall of Aaron's side.

  If Aaron had never kissed me, would our relationship have stayed stuck in friendship mode for the rest of our lives? I was hopeful, either way, we would have finally woken up one day twenty years from now and realized the perfect partner had been in front of us all along.

  I couldn’t help myself from smiling as I watched his chest move up and down to confirm he was still alive. With my grim reaper touch, I would have to be more careful in the future. I didn’t need any more mishaps like Cindy. Lucky for Aaron, the only shivers I had felt last night hadn’t been confined to just my spine.

  I wondered if I’d be able to ever tell Aaron what my family could do. That I took people’s souls and made sure death would come for them. I felt like a dog marking my territory each time I touched someone. I belong here, you don’t. It was a relief to finally touch someone I loved and to be able to see him living and breathing the next day. I had enough to worry about and didn’t need any more drama or death in my life.

  I stood up from the bed, careful not to disturb him. I pushed away his hair and kissed him on his forehead before I walked to my bedroom to change.

  I hadn’t checked my app for a few hours, and my phone beckoned me as soon as I walked back into my room. Oh, what the hell. I turned on my phone and lay down on my bed. I knew I would have to check the Dead Head app eventually. It was only a matter of time before I had my next client. I needed to be strong and face my next challenge head on as soon as possible. I was still upset over the death of baby Lily, but I knew it was pointless to try to ignore my calling. I’d only be punished again for misbehaving.

  I watched the new client message appear on the screen and I quickly pressed the link to my next victim’s information. As the picture loaded, I dropped my phone
on the bed and scrambled away from it. I fell to the floor in a heap. I gasped for air. It couldn’t be real. Death couldn’t be testing me again. I had to be hallucinating or still asleep. I pinched my arm and was met with pain. Death couldn’t ask me to do this. I wouldn’t be strong enough. I didn’t need another test.

  I imagined a million other people I’d rather see on that screen as I untangled my limbs and reached for my device again. My eyes skimmed over the name and information a thousand times in a single second. I felt faint, nauseous and wanted to disappear at the same time. This couldn’t be right. I couldn’t be tested this much so quickly into my career as a grim reaper. I couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t handle all the death and depression that went along with this role. My eyes refused to blink. I couldn’t move away from the screen. Fate had sent me a great big screw you in the form of a name on my screen: Aaron Rodriguez.

  My first reaction once I regained movement was to throw my phone against the wall. It shattered into chucks of glass and metal. I wouldn’t do it. Death couldn’t make me kill him. What kind of sick joke was this shit? I couldn’t kill Aaron. He was the only person that mattered outside my family and I loved him. I felt the pain of Juliet and every other tragic heroine that had lost their loves in my heart. I couldn’t take the soul of someone I loved. I sat on the floor and curled into a ball as I shook.

  Aaron ran from his bedroom to find me on the floor. “I heard a crash—are you okay?” He pointed at the pieces of my phone scattered in the floor. “Did you break something?”

  I held a fist against my chest as he spoke.

  “Mads, are you okay?” He reached out to touch me.

  I jumped away and cowered next to my bed. I couldn’t let him touch me. I’d kill him, like I had with Cindy. “Aaron, stay away from me.”

  Aaron pulled his hand back like my words had burned him. “Are you hurt? What happened?”