In Death's Eyes

A short story told in Death's point of view.

I watch as you continually live life without meaning, without mirth; you are but a puppet who moves along with the strings life has tied on you. You move along with the flow, along with the actions of people, you are flexible, easily manipulated by those around you. Despite knowing such facts, you move to continue on forward but you don't have any hope just like how your actions hold no meaning. You are but an empty vessel, a hollow puppet that dances unwillingly and without meaning to the music that is life. 

Days go by, nothing changes. Your eyes are always lifeless, void. It irks me that you continually force yourself to suffer, won't you just take my hand and let me free you? You continue to smile but it's no longer true. You laugh but it holds no joy and echoes a haunting hollowness that only I can hear. I call out to you, offering you my hand and yet you continue to reject me with a sad laugh. You slid the blade back under your pillow, tuck yourself in and silently weep till you fall asleep. It angers me, why do you deny me when I offer you reprieve? 

I watch as you continue to live as if you're fine but in truth, you are tired, you are sore and sick of it all. Loneliness eats you away, your insecurities claw and destroy your confidence, your self-esteem. How can you live like this? You continually say that you're okay but even you don't believe your own words. I watch as you bring the blade across your wrist, leaving long cuts and watching them bleed. You're crying again. 

Have you had enough yet? Are you tired now, friend? There's defeat in your eyes, your back's slumped against the wall and there's nothing but self-hate, anger and sadness filling your head. I watch as you curl yourself into a ball, legs tucked, arms resting on your knees and your head cradled by them. Muffled sobs escape your lips, incoherent mumbling accompanying them. There's nothing much I can do but stand beside you, I can't help you unless you take my hand which you continue to deny. You cried yourself to sleep again, just like you have been doing for the past few days. 

There was something strange with you today. I can't wrap my fingers around it, but something was definitely up. I have decided to keep an eye out on you today so I followed you where ever you have decided to go. I followed you in a pharmacy and watched as you smiled at the pharmacist and asked her if they have any sleeping pills. It was but a harmless question and of course the woman was nice enough to answer 'yes' and asked if you wanted to buy it. You eagerly nodded, saying you haven't been sleeping properly for a while now. I observed as you casually engage in mindless chatter before she charges you for the sleeping pills and sends you off. What a foolish human. You rushed back home as quickly as possible, an anxious expression on your face. Once you have reached your house, you swiftly made your way to your bedroom after grabbing a glass of water. Everything is almost set, it is about time for you to take a bow.

You closed the door of your bedroom and sat on your brown office chair, you have a letter to organize. With a trembling hand, you reached for the pen and began writing, tears falling on the sheet of paper. I watch as you pour your heart out, writing down the words you have left unspoken for so long, writing down the secrets you have kept for years. Take your time dear, once you're dead your voice they can no longer hear. You have finally stopped and placed your pen down before moving to grabs the packet of sleeping pills you have bought over the counter. You have sixteen pills in total on the palm of your shaking hand, you can't turn back now love. You're shaking, you're afraid and in doubt but dear, don't be. Once you leave it all behind, you'll find nothing but relief. 

Pushing all your doubts away, you shoved the pills in your mouth and gulped them down swiftly with water. I watched and waited patiently for the effects to kick in which did not disappoint. Your eyelids slowly dropped and your body relaxed then convulsed. You were choking, gasping for air and then after those few minutes of suffering, everything stopped and finally you're free. 

"This must be death huh..." You whispered as you look at me. I can hear relief in your voice, I smiled and offered you my hand again; this time you did not deny me, instead you took it and smiled gratefully.

Author's Note

Please give me honest review on this, I'd like to see where I should improve on.

Reviews

[Bala Gorthi]

Your showing the death as a compassionate partner ever watching out and caring for us is interesting. This is again a unique thought..
There is one typo if I may point out, in third para first sentence ( continue to live as if your) should be you are..
Your descriptions are vivid, and beautiful..
I liked the perspective and I thoroughly enjoyed reading this write.... Well done!
I see a very good writer in you .. Keep sharing more..
Thanks for sharing this one.....

[Zay]

Thank you for pointing it out, I'll be sure to fix that right away. As I have said before, death intrigues me and often this is my interpretation of what death will mostly be like for most people; tranquil and most of all, free of burdens that they have carried when they were alive.
Thank you for your kind words, I'll be sure to keep it up and continue to improve!