text: (this is my first attempt at a story, I'd love some criticism and thoughts thanks) I'm a simple man, just a New Yorker, like everyone else. I was born In the Bronx and I will probably die in the Bronx. Never been outside of the city, except for once. I was in an inner city youth program and they took us to New Jersey on a camping trip, if you can call it that. We had a picnic in a park. I was lucky, I was able to see my 18th birthday. Many of my friends did not. My best friend Nick, he met his maker overdosing one night, he was only 16. He died right there next to me but I was too messed up to even do anything about it. After that, I got clean. Well, I started getting clean. I just got my 30 year chip about 6 months ago, I'm 50 now. I've been driving cabs around the city for 25 years. I like the job, it pays good enough and I get to see a lot of the city and interesting people. When you've been driving as long as I have, you get to know how to read people. I can pretty much tell you what a person is up to as soon as they open the cab door. A man in a nice suit jacket going to Manhattan is probably businessman, but the same man going to the Bronx is probably looking to get high. I don't judge though, it's not my place. I simply get people from point A to point B. The night was like any other, I got to the taxi depot around 7:30pm, my shift started at 8:00pm. A tuna fish sandwich in one hand, my timesheet in the other. I've been trying to work some overtime lately so I'm staying out a little later. I'm saving up for one of those new fancy flat screens. I heard you can see the sweat coming off Vinny Testaverde’s face. When I got there, my boss was already mad. Who knows at what. All I know, is it wasn't me and I wasn't about to ask. I handed him the time sheet and grabbed the keys out of the lock box, which was never locked. We're supposed to do an inspection of the cab. You know, check the oil, tire pressure, and stuff like that. Over the years, it turned into more of a five second glance. Check the boxes and go! About four hours had passed at this point, the clock was knocking on 11:30pm. I only had half the sandwich left with around three hours of driving remaining. I didn't like working night shift, but you couldn't beat the money and the roads were clear. Well, as clear as New York roads get. There is a reason they call us the city that never sleeps. The other thing about the night shift is people seem to keep to themselves. No one talks to me and I sure wasn't about to talk to them. All I needed was an address and a couple bucks and that was good enough for me. As I reached down to grab the last half of the tuna sandwich, which I knew I'd be regretting later, I saw a man on the sidewalk trying to call. This was a little odd, because I swear a second ago he wasn't there. But, you know how New York is, everywhere you look there's a nook or cranny to hide in or even sleep in. As I got up on him, my lights shined up onto his face or rather lack of. Where I expected to see some old ragged man, all I saw was darkness. Again, being from New York, this wasn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen. I figured it was just some sort of mask. Didn’t matter anyway, he tried anything funny, I had a 45 next to me. You aren’t supposed to carry in the cabs, but everyone did. I hadn't had trouble in a long time. Kind of dumb to rob a cab. For one, there's cameras and for another, the money goes in the box. Even I can't get it out. So, unless he was dying for a half-eaten tuna sandwich and the $3 in change I had in my left pocket, he wasn't going to get anything else. I pulled up, the man got in the car and sat down heavily. That was unexpected as he seemed to be a slender man almost unhealthily skinny. He wore some sort of black hoodie which I could not see where it began or ended. I waited for a few seconds figuring he would tell me the address, but it was just silent. This is not unusual as some people needed me to ask; however, most New Yorkers knew the routine. I went to turn around, expecting to see some young man in a black mask, but as I looked into his face there was nothingness. Not black, just a lack of substance, as though no light within it would ever escape, if there was any at all. I felt if I stared long enough, I would be pulled in. This made me shudder to my bones. I quickly regained my composure, thinking it was surely some sort of magic trick for I did not take heed into the supernatural. I was raised by my grandmother since I was 11, my father left when I was young. I don’t remember him. My mother died of cancer when I was 10. I was young enough not to understand, but old enough to remember. My grandmother was a very devout Catholic and she tried her best to get me to believe. I went to church every Sunday and said my prayers. Did communion, but knew there was nothing to it. If there was any God out there, he would not have taken my mother away. She had suffered all the way to the end. She cried out in pain, but she never cried out against God. Never wavering from her faith, I will give her that. Sadly, the God she prayed to did not save her. I turned quickly back around so I would not have to stare into the void for any longer. I asked for an address and he gave it. When he said the address, I was somehow not surprised. It still caught me off guard as the address he gave wasn't really an address, at least as far as the Post Office was concerned. It was just another drug den under a bridge. The exact same bridge where my childhood friend died next to me, but I was too baked out of my mind to do anything about it. All my years driving, I don't recall taking anyone here. The people who went there didn't have enough money for a cab or if they did, they sure weren't spending it on a cab. I take people where they want to go, so I started driving. It was an awkward drive. I cannot say why as I’ve driven people in silence hundreds of times, I really preferred it. It wasn't like driving with a complete stranger though, I almost got the sense that the man knew me and I knew him on some sort of deep level. I cannot tell you where, from or how. We pulled up to the bridge and my lights hit the few tents scattered around. At this point, I assumed the man was going to spend the night here, probably shoot up and call for a cab in the morning, if he was able to. Instead, he put his hand on my shoulder giving me a chilling feeling, but somehow a comforting feeling too. He said to me in a raspy voice, almost like he had been hitting two packs a day for most his life, to wait there. I was hesitant to reply, but I nodded my head, which seemed to suffice. He got out of the car and shut the door behind him. I turned around to see where he was going, just hoping that I would not have to drag him back into the car. As I peered through the glass divider in the cab, I saw him kneeling next to someone who would had obviously been busy that night. It looked like he had gotten a bad batch of something as his face was all contorted. The man reached out and simply grazed his arm. This gesture was as light as a fallen leaf on an autumn morning, but as powerful as a prairie fire whipping across the plains. As soon as he did this, the man grew limp, his face relaxed as if a great weight was lifted off his shoulders. This took me aback, what did this man do? He barely touched him! The man stayed there for a moment almost like he was grieving. I was going to drive away. I did not want that fate for me! Before I could even get the car in gear, the man was in my backseat, once again. This time, he looked as if he had a great weight on his shoulders. It was like what he had taken from the man had now been heaved on his soul. I decided my best option was not to fight this man. Obviously, if he was powerful enough to kill a man with just a touch, he was not going threatened by any bullet. And, honestly, I couldn't even remember if the gun was loaded. It had been so long since I had used it. I started driving, to where, I do not know. He asked me something which I will never forget. Who do you think I am? At first, I didn't know what to say, but like a rushing wave, it all came to. I think you are death here to reap the souls of mortals. Here to take vengeance on the weak and to kill all that is good. He simply shrugged and said, maybe you’re right. Maybe, some part of me is evil. Maybe, I am out here to destroy all that is good. But, why do people blame me for their loved one’s passing? I know you do. Remember the night your mom finally met her Maker? I was there. You blame me. You also blame me for when your best friend finally caught a bad batch, but you know deep down it wasn’t my fault. I never killed anyone, I have simply let them go. I have released them from their mortal being and let them move on to their afterlife. I do not cause people to get sick. I do not cause people to use drugs. I do not cause people to kill one another. It’s your own doing, but you all like to blame me because it is easier. I get it. It is easier to blame some unknown evil entity for all the world’s problems than it is to simply blame yourself. I am not here to judge. I do not decide where you go or when you die. I am simply here to let you go. To let the suffering end and to let you join the void. At this point, I had no words to say. I did not want to believe what he had told me, but deep down, I knew his words were true. They were true my whole life and it was easier for me to blame God for the death of my mother and the death of my friend, even though they were not His fault. My friend and I were stupid and I just somehow got lucky. My mother got sick, no one could have done anything. Then I realized if they had not died, they would have continued suffering going down the same path until there was nothing but pain and agony. Death is not a consequence of our actions, but a mercy to release us from the outcome of our wicked ways. For if we never died, if we never moved on, we would continue down a dark path with no return. I turned around to tell the man of my realization, hoping that he might spare me or maybe I was hoping he would take me, for this I cannot be sure. All I know, is when I turned around, my cab was empty. I wasn't even driving. I was still in the same spot where I had originally seen the man. As I looked up over the hood of the car, I saw some young teenage kid in a black hoodie with a normal face. When he saw me, he just turned and ran away back into the void.