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Becoming Death

Page 14

by Melissa Brown


  My fight-or-flight response begged me to run away, escape, get away from here, but I pulled my legs in tighter. Tears fell down my face as I mumbled, “Please, you have to stay away from me.”

  Aaron ran a jerky hand through his hair and held his lips tightly together. “Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. There was no way to explain my behavior.

  “Whatever happened, I’m sorry. Just tell me what I did and I’ll fix it. I promise,” he pleaded with me, lowering himself to the floor.

  He watched me for a few moments, waiting for a sign. He reached a hand towards me and I pulled a pillow from the bed and flung it in his direction.

  “Aaron, please, don’t touch me. Please just go away,” I whispered.

  He wiped the back of his hand against his eyes and stood up. His voice cracked as he said, “What's wrong with you?” He didn't wait for an answer. He walked away from me, out of the room and slammed his bedroom door.

  I crawled towards the door, making sure he was gone before I stood up. I kicked the pieces of my broken phone into the corner of the room. It was a lost cause. I needed help, advice, a loophole. I flung open my drawers and threw on the first clothes I came across. I had to get out the apartment before he came out again. One touch and he was dead. I couldn’t risk being in the same room with him or seeing the pain in his eyes right now. Death was cruel. How could he have decided to take Aaron like this?

  I suddenly remembered how much we had touched last night. Was there a chance I had already made a fatal mistake? I felt like I was in a horror movie, where unlucky fornication could equal death. I thought back carefully. I didn’t remember feeling any of the normal signs of marking a person for death, no chills down the spine or a flood of memories. I would never be able to forgive myself if during our first time I had accidentally killed him.

  I paused at my door, reached into my winter coat on the hook and pulled on a pair of gloves. Although it was spring, the gloves would protect Aaron from my deadly fingers. He’d need as much protection from me as he could get.

  I glanced back at Aaron’s room one more time before running out of the apartment. I had to get to my mother and find out if there was anyway around this. There had to be some way to protect Aaron from my touch, and if there was I was sure my mother would tell me, no matter what some stupid rule book tried to say.

  Chapter 21

  I pulled into my mother’s driveway so quickly I had to pull the emergency brake to avoid hitting her garage. I was furious. I wanted to find whoever had sent me these stupid messages and take their soul. I would imagine the worst death possible for that person and make sure it happened. My hands shook as I knocked on my mother’s door. When my mother answered, I didn’t even bother saying hello and pushed past her to the trunk hidden in the living room. If there were answers on how to save Aaron, that would be the most logical place to find them.

  My mother clutched her hand to her chest and scoffed before following me. “Madison, what are you doing?” she asked, watching me kneel down and begin to pull at the floorboards.

  “I won’t do it!” I shouted at whatever cruel fate had decided my life didn’t suck enough so far.

  My mother grabbed my hands just as I was about lift a piece of wood. “Darling, what’s the matter?” I dropped my grip on the board and fell forwards into my mother’s arms. “The app… it…”

  My mother rubbed my back. “Madison, I can’t help you unless I know what is the matter.”

  I rubbed my face. It was sticky with dried tears. “Death wants me to kill… Aaron. I won’t do it.”

  My mother hugged me tighter against her chest. She stiffened but didn’t cry. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing you can do, Madison. If you touch him or he touches you, that is it. There’s no way out of it.”

  I pulled away. “No, Mom. I won’t touch him. I think I love him. I won’t kill him. No one can make me do it, not even Death.”

  My mother shook her head. “Madison, it’s your responsibility.” The words sounded cold, and in that moment I hated my mother.

  I threw my hands in the air. “Death can’t make me and neither can you. I’ll just stay away from him, protect him from me.”

  “Darling, please. You have to,” my mother said. “It’s your fate to be the one who takes his soul, and if you don’t you’ll die permanently instead.”

  “How do you know I will? I might not. Maybe Death will change his mind, and Aaron and I might live to a ripe old age together,” I said, pacing around the room.

  My mother crossed her arms and rubbed her forearm. “I told you what happens if you don’t mark him. My brother died within two weeks of not taking a soul,” my mother said. “He was in pain every moment of those two weeks before he finally gave up. I can’t let that happen to you.”

  “Maybe Uncle Harry was just unlucky. It might just be a lie to make us conform. It might not happen to all grim reapers,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  My mother screamed at me, “You want to test that theory by not taking Aaron’s soul? If you’re wrong, you’ll die painfully. Please, Madison, don’t do this to yourself, to me. I don’t want to watch you be tortured.”

  “Aaron will die if I do what you want. He’s got a target on his back and doesn’t even know it. What makes me so special? Why should I get a reprieve?” I said.

  “If you don’t take his soul, Death will choose another reaper to do it. They will probably be more willing,” my mother told me. “I won’t let you waste your life for a boy.”

  “A boy! Aaron just isn’t some guy. That boy has been my friend since I was a child. He grew up in our house. He’s practically your son. That boy is my best friend and the man I love. I think it’s worth the risk. I’m not killing him. Either you help me find a way for him to live, or I avoid him until enough time has passed and I die instead. Is that what you want, Mom?”

  My mother sat down on the sofa. “I can’t believe this is happening. You know we both care about Aaron but this is a serious choice. Maybe you aren’t old enough to make this kind of decision on your own.”

  I scowled at my mother. “To hell with that. Who are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? As far as I can see, you always do whatever Death tells you to and never question it. If you were in the same situation as me, you’d just give up.”

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” my mother corrected me.

  “Sure I do, Mom. You’re a heartless monster that just kills without thinking. I never want to be like you.”

  My mother stood up and pushed me down on the sofa. She arched over me. Her eyes narrowed and she looked more angry then I had ever seen her. “Madison, there’s something you should know before you call me a heartless monster.”

  “Mom?” I asked.

  “Death made me kill your father,” my mother said, her words stinging my chest. “I didn’t have a choice, but I did what I had to.”

  I shot up, snarling at her like a wild animal. “You killed Dad? He was your husband. I was right, you are a monster!”

  I tried to run out the front door but my mother caught my arm. “Don’t you think it hurt me, Madison? It’s the same situation as you and Aaron.”

  I turned towards her. “Why would you kill your husband, Mom? Did you love him at all?”

  “I had no choice. There is no way around not killing a loved one, no loophole, no way to beg Death to leave them alone. You have to believe me—I looked for days before I took your father’s soul. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t leave you and your sister alone.”

  I hung my head. “How can there but no way around this? Isn’t there someone we can contact and explain the situation to? I’m sure if I told them how important Aaron is to me, they wouldn’t make me do this.”

  My mother took my hand. “I’m afraid not. There is no one we can talk to, and they wouldn’t change their minds anyway. Death’s decision is always final. There are no do-overs. There i
s only one way I know of to save Aaron… but it will never work.”

  “So there is a loophole? I’ll make it work. Just tell me what I have to do and I will get it done,” I told her.

  My mother went to the bookshelf and removed her copy of the handbook. She flipped through the pages and handed it to me.

  “If a human can identify a grim reaper they will strip the reaper of their powers and gain a reprieve from death.”

  She sucked on her bottom lip. “You need to get Aaron to figure out you are a grim reaper before he dies. That’s the only way to save him. You’d lose your grim reaper abilities and go back to being a normal girl again.”

  “And the down side to that is?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid, although it’s in the grim reaper handbook, it's a legend. No one has ever managed to do it. I tried so hard with your father but he never understood.”

  “What do you mean? It sounds so simple to me. I go up to Aaron give him a few hints and I’m sure he’ll guess. Once he says I’m a grim reaper, Death loses and we win.”

  “Madison, do you ever pay attention when I talk? I told you already, you can’t tell Aaron you’re a grim reaper. If you try to hint anything about it the words will refuse come out, and if you try to write it you will lose control of your muscles. It is an impossible task—that’s why there is such a huge reward for the victim,” my mother said.

  “There has to be a way and, if not, I have to at least try before I give up on our happy ending,” I explained, heading for the door. I stopped in the doorway and turned back to my mother. She was holding her head in her hands. I came back and sat down next to her. “Mom, I forgive you for killing Dad. I know you didn’t want to, and it must have been a horrible thing to go through. I can’t even imagine the kind of guilt you’ve had to live with.”

  She hugged me, crying against my shoulder.

  Chapter 22

  As I drove back to my apartment, I struggled with what I could possibly say to Aaron to make up for this morning. It wasn’t like any other fight we’d had over the years. I knew my actions had hurt him badly and saying sorry didn’t feel like it was ever going to be enough. Yes, I had been in shock after seeing his death alert, but I had definitely overreacted big time.

  I pulled into the parking lot and stared up at our apartment windows, trying to judge if he was still home. It was daytime so there were no lights to guide me, but I didn’t see him moving around inside either. I hung my head as I walked inside and up the stairs. What was I even supposed to say? What was left for us? A relationship was out of the question—I couldn’t even touch him anymore.

  I stopped on the welcome mat of our front door. The task ahead of me started to become real. I had to finally admit my mother was right—it would be almost impossible to get Aaron to call me a grim reaper without being able to prompt him. It’s not like anyone else even knew grim reapers were real, so why would anyone guess they existed in the real world? I sure as hell wouldn’t have. They weren’t a recognizable job like a police officer or nurse. Being a grim reaper wasn’t meant to be an everyday job. My shoulders slumped. Anyone spouting crazy stuff like that would be branded completely insane. I pushed the thought away and opened the door. I had to focus getting the most important thing done first: getting Aaron to forgive me.

  As I walked inside, I prepared myself for his reaction. I weighed up the possibilities and decided a screaming match was preferable to being flat out told to leave and never come back. The lights were off and the living room was empty. The room felt too silent, like Death had already paid my home a visit. A chill ran down my spine. This place didn’t feel like home anymore. I glanced at the TV, wishing Aaron was sat in front of it, blowing up video game baddies or watching a predictable action movie. Without him here, the energy seemed to have drained and I felt my shoulders slump further with the heaviness of my guilt from this morning. I headed for his bedroom, adjusting my gloves to assure myself no accidental skin was showing. I couldn’t take any risks now.

  His door was closed, which itself was unusual. Was he shutting me out already?

  I knocked on the door and called, “Aaron, it’s me.”

  I sucked on my lip while waiting uncomfortably for an answer, but I was met with silence on the other side. I leaned against the door, wondering whether he really wasn’t home or if he was just ignoring me. I prepared myself for the worst as I turned the knob and pushed the door open with my foot. I hugged the doorframe, creating a buffer as I peered into his room. The room was empty. His bed was made but everything else was seemingly untouched from this morning. I scraped my teeth against my bottom lip while retreating back to my room. Part of me hoped he had only gone out to get some lunch, but in the pit of my stomach I knew he was gone.

  My phone was mysteriously whole again when I entered my room. I picked it up from the carpet to examine it. The metal and glass were smooth; it looked brand new. Did Death moonlight at the Genius Bar? I turned it on and it shook back to life. The screen mocked me with the unwelcome phrase New Client. I lifted my arm to heave it at the wall again but reminded myself there was no point and sat it down on my desk. I collapsed onto the bed and wrapped the quilt around me in a cocoon of warmth and safety. I couldn’t hurt anyone here. Everyone I loved would be safe, and so would I.

  I awoke two hours later to the sound of my phone ringing. Still groggy I reached over, tilting it so I could see the screen. I recognized the number for Happy Mourners but didn’t answer it. Having a day job and a paycheck didn’t seem important anymore. After all, if I didn’t mark Aaron for death soon, I’d be gone in a few days anyway.

  I untangled myself from the blankets of my safety cocoon before going to my closet to lift down a forgotten box from inside. I hadn’t looked in it in years, but after my mother’s confession it felt like the right time to open it again. The cardboard sides were dented and it was half covered in red paint from a failed childhood redecorating experiment. The box, with the word “Dad” scrolled across it, wheezed as I lifted the lid to reveal stacks of paper, photos and keepsakes from my childhood.

  I picked up a pile of photos and flipped through them slowly, watching my father age before my eyes. I paused as I came to the most recent photo. It had been taken the week before he died. He carried me on his shoulders as we wandered along a lonely beach at sunset. His hair had begun to thin and his skin held a rosy tint from a sunburn, but it was still my favorite photograph of him. His smile was large, slightly goofy, like it had been just before the truck had hit us. How had my mother ever been able to kill him? It was obvious she still loved him and missed him everyday. My hand shook. Deep down I knew I wasn’t as strong as her.

  I abandoned the box, concentrating on the picture as I walked over to my bed. I picked up Mr. Quackers from my bedside table and replace him with the picture, leaning it against my lamp. My eyes stung and I held them closed. I squeezed Mr. Quackers to my chest, knowing that if I could talk to my father again, he would know what to do about Aaron. He wouldn’t abide by Death’s rules and let Aaron be another victim. He’d fight, just like I was going to. I climbed onto the bed and lay back against my pillow cradling the toy duck. If only my powers allowed me to bring people back from death instead of causing it.

  I paced the lifeless apartment for the hundredth time trying to organize my thoughts. It was getting dark and I still hadn’t heard a peep from Aaron since this morning. My father’s eyes followed me from the picture as I wandered to my phone again to check it for messages. I sat down on the bed swallowing my fear as I pressed his name in my contacts list and listened to the soft hum of the rings on the other end. One ring, two rings, three rings, four rings—hang up after ten rings, I told myself.

  “Hello,” a voice picked up on the other end.

  My words caught in my throat as my nerves took over. I coughed out the word “Aaron.”

  “Madison,” he said coldly.

  “Where are you? Are you okay?”

  He sighed heavily. “I’m at M
arcus’s. I needed some space to think.”

  “Aaron, please. You have to know how sorry I am. It was a huge mistake.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I tried to reason with him. “When are you coming home?”

  Aaron was silent a few seconds before replying, “In a few hours.”

  I felt nauseous when I heard Aaron’s key turn in the door. I had disobeyed his orders and camped out on the sofa. I caught his eyes as he entered. His teeth were clenched and his eyes sunken. I lowered my gaze and jammed my hand into the pocket of my sweatshirt.

  His lip rose in an awkward half-smile as he sat down in the chair at the far end of the room and picked at a loose thread. “Are we okay?”

  I ran my teeth over my bottom lip and squeezed my eyes shut. I answered honestly, “I don’t know.”

  Aaron leaned back in the chair. “I feel like I’m missing something. You seemed so happy last night, and then this morning… it was like I hurt you. Did I do something wrong?”

  I shook my head. “No, of course not.”

  “But you pulled away, you cowered from me this morning. That doesn’t sound normal for any relationship.”

  I turned away slightly, avoiding his eyes.

  “What were you afraid of?”

  I tapped my fingers against the chair as I fumbled to find something to say. “I guess I wasn’t ready.”

  “What?”

  “It all happened so fast, I thought I was ready but I changed my mind. You’re my best friend, Aaron, and now we’re in this confusing relationship. I don’t know what I wanted anymore,” I lied.

  Aaron stood, examining the floor. “We shouldn’t have slept together. We pushed each other too far, too fast.”

  “This doesn’t mean I don’t love you, because I do,” I told him. “But for now we need to back up and put the breaks on.”

 

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