The Grim Reaper

About: I actually cried the ENTIRE time I wrote this.  Just imagine yourself in Duo’s shoes, that’s how it’s written.  It’s also written the same way Stephen Kings, Carrie is written.

Who: Angel0fRebirth

Why: We’re using the Back Death as a topic in my Reading class in college and The Grim Reaper was made up from it.

The Grim Reaper

I sat down in my chair, a yellow binded book sitting in my lap, as I trace my fingers over it.  Black leather covered its face and red velvet letters were spaced out spelling ‘Memories’ in a single row.

(My friends…)

I was almost too afraid to take the book down off my top shelf.  It has been years since I even wanted to remember it, making sure I kept it safe from eye’s distance in the back of my junk shelf, covering with dust and cobwebs.  My eyes began to water at the memory it held within it.

It’s not my fault that I kill with a touch, that’s what I keep telling myself.  That Shinigami took its turn over the years and grew up into a plague of its own.  I was sixteen when I first experienced it, the sudden knowledge without warning about my new fate.

(It’s been five years)

I was at a party Hildie threw for me, nobody came as expected, and so it was only us.  I can still remember that smile on her face when she opened her door to greet me.  It brought more than happiness to me; it brought love.

(Hildie…)

I loved her, true I’m bisexual, but I felt for her…like I did for the rest of the group.

(Quatre, Heero, Trowa…WuFei…)

Hildie was even happier than I was; she greeted me with all she knew with that smile of hers and cheery personality.  It reminded me of myself at times, mostly when I was down.  I remember watching as she hugged me at times that day

(Nothing happened)

and nothing happened that sprang what came later.  We ate the cake she bought for me and chatted about how annoying people can be when they RSVP and don’t show up.  It wasn’t until her present that terror began.  She said she had a present for me and stood as I had.  I remember stepping up to her, expecting something rather small considering the space that was between us at that moment, when she reached over and kissed me.

          (My first kiss…)

          I was frozen in my first kiss; scared to do anything, but aimed in for it as most would.  That was when she hugged me closer to her body and next I know, her lips went cold and dry and she began to lean her weight on me.  I was scared.  I opened my eyes only to see hers staring into mine, complete terror filling her once glamorous eyes that sparkled.  I asked what was wrong, she only breathed heavy, making a somewhat whimpering sound with it.  That was when I grabbed her sides and lifted her up off my body, looking at her wearily and worriedly.  I tried calling her name, but it flew unknown through her mind.  Her eyes were huge and looked somewhat near death.  I laid her down on her back on the couch and felt her hands; they were cold.  I looked at her face; her lips were blue.  I knew something was wrong and immediately called for help.  Waiting for help to arrive, I tried calling to her again.  When I reached for her hand a second time, I saw her body with shades of black and red to it; that frightened me even more.  I felt her cold hands, but no longer felt a pulse.  My eyes watered as I lowered my head to her chest for signs of heartbeats; none sounded.  I was even more scared now than I was in the kiss.

          (…killed her)

          That night when I laid in my bed, I thought about it, that kiss.  We didn’t even touch with tongues or saliva, and I sent her body to rest, her soul to Heaven where I knew she looked down to me.

          (She hugged me before, nothing happened)

I tried not to cry.  I would no longer see her shining face; that smile, the twinkle in her eyes.  A single kiss took her away from me forever.

          (She touched my clothes, not my skin)

          It was then that I had learned something was wrong with me; Hildie wouldn’t hide anything from me so it couldn’t have been her fault she rests now.  I decided to tell the others and warn them of my problem.  Maybe there would be a way to fix it in time.

(It’s my life now)

I told Quatre and Trowa the problem on what happened.  WuFei wasn’t around and Heero heard from another room.  I explained it as certain as possible, explaining what happened at that party with Hildie.  I found myself crying halfway through.

(I still cry)

The rest of that week was fine.  I didn’t have time to explain to WuFei because he would never stop to listen to me, but I figured the others would tell him.  I was walking down the hallway leaving my room, when Heero ran besides me.  I froze in spot, scared if he touched me and collapsed just as Hildie, but he continued to run.  I continued and made my way to the foyer then stopped.  I watched as Quatre and Trowa hugged each other and watch the daily sitcoms.  I couldn’t help but smile…then I broke down once again.  Quatre saw.

(Quatre)

He stood and began his way to me.  He asked if I was all right, but I ignored his question; did I look all right watching him cuddle, as I could never do that again.

          I remember telling Quatre distinctively about everything, certain not to forget anything major or minor as well.  But yet, he continued on.  I looked into his caring eyes, they were pleading for the truth.  I couldn’t lie, I literally can’t.  I never have and sworn to myself that I won’t, therefore I can’t.  I hesitated for a second then replied a simple “Nothing”.  Still, he asked; He knew me too well.  I turned around and aimed for the doorknob, I needed a break from things and driving helped take it out, but I was suddenly grasped from behind.  I was sure I told him every detail but

          (Why did you hug me?)

he must have forgotten and hugged me.  My sorrows grew at that moment.  I felt his body touch me and become cold.  His voice squeaked through the stilled air around us and I felt his body give way.  He slid down me and fell to the floor.  Trowa saw and jumped, shocked.  He was screaming his name, unusual for his quiet self, and ran over to where Quatre now lay.  He looked up at me, anger filling his eyes as extreme depression hit mine.  Quatre never did anything wrong to me, and I killed him through a single hug.

          (Just like Hildie)

          Trowa stood, fierce anger taking over him as he screamed at me.  I couldn’t help but stare down at Quatre’s pale complexion.

          (Pale, more than usual, with the exception of black and red skin patches)

          I stared at the floor, helpless to fight back.  Even my breath turned into a slow motion with every shout he threw.  I shook scared once again.  What next, I asked myself.  But, unfortunately for my thought, Trowa decided that I was not listening to him and struck me in my stomach.  I grabbed it and bent over.  It hurt, but I bet Quatre’s did as well, Hildie too.  I looked up at Trowa, tears filling my eyes and sliding down my cheeks.  He continued yelling at me.  I could see Heero from the corner of my eyes; he was standing outside his door watching this take place.  I shut my eyes and stood, wishing I was living a nightmare

          (I am)

that I could awake from.  Too bad I can’t, I desperately want this to end.  I reopened my eyes and looked at Trowa.  I still struck him as annoying and not paying attention, but I was.

          (Trowa)

          That was when he came down on me and struck my face, hard.  I remember feeling pain in my nose and the warm blood automatically dripping after that, but it seemed he held his hand there on purpose.

          (Not you too)

          When I reopened my eyes from after the strike, I noticed his glared at me, but not a death glare.  He glared at me already dead.  His legs gave out and dropped his body, crashing it to the floor with a loud thud.  Even a quick punch as that was, and I still take someone down.

          This is Hell, I thought to myself as I just stared at the two helpless bodies that lay before me.  Both I once knew, but that was no more.  Without second thought, I cried a whimpering whine and spun for the door.  Heero called my name, but I had already shut the door and ran.

          I couldn’t drive, my eyes burned too much.  Instead, I ran to where I was able to run to before I would faint and hopefully go to Hell where I belonged.

          (Shinigami belongs in Hell)

My name, God of Death itself, give away its meaning.  I kill with a touch and send the victim to eternal rest.

          I slowed to a stop and bent over to catch my breath.  Why, was all I wanted to know; just why.  But I never got my answer.

          (Why not, I’m Shinigami aren’t I?)

          WuFei stepped up to me and saw me bending over.  He questioned my doing so, but I simply ignored him.

          (Big mistake)

He came up to me and asked again, then placed his hand on my back.  I jumped; I didn’t want anyone else to die by my hands, especially my friends.  I felt his hand through the clothe of my jacket and shirt.  As much as I hated him for treating me badly, I was allowing him to give me support.  Perhaps this was true friendship; he treated me rudely, but he’s kind to me in time needed.  I smiled.  He began to tell me things I never knew about him, how he enjoyed the field we were in at the moment and why, and I was going to explain to him why I was crying once he finished.  He told me things that I never expected him to have hidden, like the memories of Meiran; Meiran is the reason why he fights for Justice, enjoys the simplicity of a flower, and the reason why women to him are weak, Nataku was not, Nataku was Meiran.  Who knew he was married before; it was she who made him a Gundam pilot, she died in his arms in a field of flowers, fighting a battle only because it took place over a field of flowers, then died there in his arms after saying that he was stronger than she.  WuFei was so calm and sure of himself.

          (Who knew)

          I felt WuFei’s hand glide across my back and rub.  The support he was giving me made it clear that he cared deep inside.  Each time his hand moved near my head, I would freeze.  I didn’t want to loose anyone else at my hands and I was sure that Quatre, Trowa,

          (Quatre, Trowa, Hildie)

and Heero have told him.  I was soon corrected.  WuFei’s fingertips brushed against my jacket collar and lightly touch the back of my neck.  His skin barely even made a brush and he was suddenly leaning on my back more than he was a minute ago.  I called his name.  No answer.  I looked at his face and I knew what happened.  Even just a light touch

          (WuFei…not you too)

sent his body at peace with his soul, mind and all.  I called again, hoping for an answer, but nothing came from his stilled lips.

          (Why should it)

          I stood and looked down at his body as it slid off my side and landed peacefully in the grass around us.

          (I killed him)

I couldn’t help but tear again.  Even WuFei, someone who has tortured me half my life, died by my hands that I didn’t want to use anymore.  I stared down at him, time flying by and wind blowing across his body; I noticed he was smiling.  Did I send him to his grave with a smile?  Yes, I did.  For once with this terror, I believe I accomplished something good.  WuFei was now back where he belonged, Heaven with the angel that looked down upon him, Meiran.  I set his spirit free of guilt and misery.

          (But why me?)

          A distant voice was heard calling my name.

(Heero)

I ignored it and walked away.  The voice called out again, it was Heero.  I ran.  I didn’t want my best friend to leave me as well.  I didn’t realize I was running top speed until I dropped to my knees, crying even more than I ever had in my life since the Maxwell Church.

          (Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, what would they think of me now?)

          I felt someone’s presence besides me and sit down.  It was Heero.  He followed me this entire time and chased me these past few minutes.  Not him too, a voice in my mind kept repeating.  Heero was my best friend, crush, and even more than that.  He was always there to straighten me up when I acted out of hand, cocking his gun to my face and threatened with death glares.  It worked though.  I crushed him for so long and he knew that.  I met him on my first major mission as a Gundam Pilot and noticed his features.  He was aiming his gun at Relena Peacecraft and I came in and shot him, twice.

          (He didn’t die)

Each time he survived and was perfectly normal after that.  Even when he crash-landed on the rocks that day after, he only had a broken leg which he fixed himself.  A month after that, he self detonated and survived that as well.  He doesn’t die, easily if at all.

          (He can die this way)

          He spoke, startling me, and avoided eye contact just as I did.  I didn’t want anyone to get hurt anymore, I was a living time bomb; anyone who touched me, went to Hell, literally.  I felt I wanted to go there myself, but touching myself wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen, only other people.  He spoke of his love to me and caused me to cry even more.  I knew his plan, I knew his last mission in life; he was going to use me.  As he spoke, I couldn’t help but begin to cry again.  I was sixteen and Shinigami returned from Hell, the real Shinigami.  I was only his substitute I noticed.  But when I went to Hildie’s party that day, the party she threw for me, Shinigami found his copier and took its toll.

          (Why did you leave me Hildie?  You knew how to get me out of these obstacles in life)

          Heero suddenly stopped and looked at me.  I returned his look and saw, not his usual straight face, but a human face full of emotions and self-pity.  He searched my eyes and smiled at me.  I gawked.  Heero never smiled.  But with that last smile I saw on him, he reached out and hugged me.  I screamed at him not to, but he looked at me with struggling eyes and whispered “Ai shiteru, Duo” with a smile and kissed me.

(Ai shiteru, Heero)

I held him back, returning the kiss and struggling to keep him alive with me.  But it was no use, his weight began to give in and his hug dropped of his arms and lips.  I let the kiss go but continued hugging him, even tighter now.  I knew that if I let him go, I would let him go forever.

(Never)

So I held him tighter.  His body grew cold and I felt nothing but the wind blowing on my neck.  His scent disappeared now, it was only the grass and my own I smelt.  I began to shake.  How would I live?  Anyone I touch, I would kill.  I didn’t want to kill another person by the touch ever again, especially after Heero.

          (Heero, you will always be my last)

          I let go of his body and allowed it to fall to the ground.  I lowered it carefully though, not to get any scratches on his perfect form.  I stared at him, his body cold now, and shook.  No one would be able to hug me in times like these ever again.  Heero knew what he was doing and he shared it with me now.

          (He knew)

He knew that when I first found this out, I kissed and hugged Hildie.  He wanted to be the last person to die in my arms the same way the first was.

          (He knew I wouldn’t touch anyone ever again)

          I stood and watched as the sun sat for that day.  A lot has happened for me.  I lost all my friends and my life in one month.  Both, the beginning and ending, with a kiss and hug of the ones I loved the most.  I decided not to bother about returning to the house ever again.  Instead, walk away and move on, hopefully able to make due of my life.  Smiling and ignoring the voice in the back of my head stating that I wouldn’t make it, I repeated that everything would be just fine.

          (It hasn’t)

          I looked back down at the leather-bounded book on my lap and stifled a smile.  With my hopes tied down, I looked through the pages at the pictures carefully.  Photos of parties thrown for celebrations, clippings of larger pictures, and more wallet-sized photos of all my friends

          (Hildie, Quatre, Trowa, WuFei, Heero)

were all placed inside this big photo album.  Wallet-sized, that’s all I had with me when I left and the house I live in now was occupied once before.  I watched the people carefully and scanned their plans, then when gone, broke in secretively and used their items, like the refrigerator.  They never returned one night and I continued to live in their house, prepared to flee if they do return.  I closed the book after the first two pages, the rest were empty.

          (Empty…just like my life)

          I closed the book and hugged it tightly.  It was all I had left of remembrance of my life.  I stood.  Tears swelled up in my eyes and I sniffed some away, wiping at the rest.

          (They’re still falling, just like my life)

          I held on to the book and made my way to the front door.  Once outside, I started for the direction I originally entered from, years ago.  I’m twenty-one now, nothing different changed since that last day.  All I ever did during the day was sit and stare out the window at the scene replaying itself over and over again.  Then look at the book and cried for the rest of the night.  It’s depressing, but what fun can I have when I can’t touch anybody without killing them.  Sometimes, I would hear kids outside singing “Ring Around the Rosie”, I tried not to cry from that, but it was no use.  That was about the Black Death in the Medieval Times and that’s what hits anyone who touches me.  I’m not allowing myself to touch anyone else ever again.  I won’t try it.  Just like lying, I can’t.  I promised myself that day I left that I would never again touch another person.  The last person I touched was my loved crush and I kissed him with that love, hugged him with that friendship.  And just like that last person; the first was how it began.

          (Hildie)

          Then how another hugged me for support and slid down restless.

          (Quatre)

          Then the next who was angry at me for his love and attacked me, striking my face and taken down by that punch.

          (Trowa)

          Then as I was regaining myself in that field, I was given support by someone I wouldn’t expect; he told me about himself and his past, and brushed against my neck and died with a smile.

          (WuFei)

          And then there was my love

          (Heero)

who hugged me for support a friend would need, and kissed me to seal my love for them all.  I loved them all and I killed them.

          I stopped in front of the molded door to my history.  It hasn’t been entered for years.  I sighed deeply; recalling the moment I just stepped over the misplaced rocks…no, bones

          (Heero)

and the dust that flew off from the wind.  I recalled the pile of the same in the dead grassy field as well

          (WuFei)

as tears began to flow slowly down my face.  I reached for the knob and stepped in.  Open, Heero left it open the last time he lived.  He was the last to leave it.  When I shut the door, I immediately looked down at the similar pile below me, surrounding my feet.

          (Trowa and Quatre)

          Tears fell heavier now and I couldn’t redeem myself much.  I clutched at the book I still held and made my way silently though the still air hallway.  The walls were covered with moss and cobwebs.  Windows were broken apart from storms, some were kids fooling around, but mostly were from the storms.  Leaves crunched under my feet as I stepped lightly to my door, history awaiting itself.  I looked down at the knob and reached for it.  It opened and closed when I entered.  I felt ghosts in the room, but it wouldn’t make much sense for it was my room.

          (My life…my ghost)

          I looked around.  Pictures of Shinigami hung on my walls, Deathscythe over my bed, the Grim Reaper hung on my closet door.

          (The Grim Reaper)

          I stepped in to the center of the room and continued to look around.

          (He led the Black Death.)

          I looked at my bed and cried even more, hugging the book tighter.

          (Just like the Black Death, red and black skin patches.  Death in one turn, just like myself.  I am the Grim Reaper)

          I remembered the last time I laid there, I was weeping over the only person I killed that got a proper burial.

          (Hildie)

          I felt I was weeping again and stepped closer to its side.  I sat down and looked around.  The lighted spots of my room filled in the darker spots with a faded shine and what I saw was no longer dusty cobwebs and shattered glass, but painted white walls with a shiny gloss to the windows, filtering the sun threw the room over my radio,

          (The radio…)

causing a loud havoc that the others would shout about.

          (…broken now)

          I set myself closer to the center of the bed, propped my feet up on it and laid back.  I stared up at the image of Deathscythe that hung above me.  It used to make me happy

          (Deathscythe…)

to stare up at it and remember the times of war.  But now when I look, it makes me cry.

          (…dead as well)

          I hugged my book even tighter and shut my eyes.  Tears strolled down my face as I cried.  Never in my life have I cried this badly.  Not even for the Maxwell Church tragedy.  I didn’t cry as bad as I am now then.  Where did I go wrong?

          (I’m alone)

          I rested my eyes.  Warm tears stained my eyes as they continued falling.  The book in my arms rested as I drifted off to sleep.  I slept.  Sleep that I never again awoke from consisted of my old life and friends that I would always hold inside me.  My mind replayed the incident over and over again, the party up to Heero’s kiss, and I rested my body where my life rested itself years before.