text: I have an unusual relationship with Death. It’s very much a “will they, won’t they” situation. Sometimes he sits at the foot of my bed and just... watches. Like a vulture. I noticed the glimpses of flirtation when I was still mobile and strong, despite his best efforts. The undercooked meat, the neighbor boy’s skateboard left at the top of the stairs, the car that whizzes past a moment too soon for success. He first appeared to me in the cold, rotted flesh the day he took my cat. Perfectly healthy one day, stiff as a board the next. He had crawled into the cabinet under the sink to be alone. To die alone. I found him there early in the morning. I buried him in my backyard, frost steaming off the grass in the rising dawn. The attendees were myself and Death. “Sorry about that,” said a disembodied voice. I didn’t turn to look. I’d sensed him three steps behind me for the last several days. I knew him as well as he knew me. “Don’t apologize,” I said firmly, staring at the new plot of loose dirt in the grass. “Don’t apologize for things you don’t regret.” He was silent for a moment. “There’s always room for you, my dear,” he said finally. “Any time you like. Any way you like.” My eyes felt hot and watery. “Why me?” I asked. “Why does it have to be me?” The lump in my throat was rising. “Because, my dear, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved. And you’ll join me, eventually. Would you like that day to be today?” My hands were balled into fists. “Fuck you.” I should have known that he would take Scott. He thought that if he just kept taking things from me, I’d be left with nothing. I’d follow him. I should have known, I should have known. I never told Scott about Death. He would have thought I was crazy. I should have stayed away from him, I should have saved him from the fate that befalls everything I come to love. I should have never answered the phone when he called me, but that foolish little girl heart inside me jumped at the chance to hear his voice. Scott was warm and safe. He was good and pure and sweet and soft and dead. Because of me. That time when Death appeared, I felt no urge to cry. The wet rage I felt when he took my cat was gone, and in its place was heavy numbness, my insides replaced with cold stones. Death spoke to me and I didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. “He didn’t feel a thing,” said Death. “I made it painless, anaesthetized.” I was sitting in an armchair, looking out the window. It should have been raining, but instead it was a beautiful, sunny day, and everyone outside would comment on what a lovely day it was, and they would have no idea that it wasn’t a lovely day at all, and each and every one of them could go fuck themselves. “You could join him.” I didn’t look. Wouldn’t entertain the idea. I would die and end up wherever dead people go and I’d be whisked away to be Death’s concubine. I’d never see Scott again. But I had one idea. My voice was raspy. “I’ll trade you,” I said. “Trade?” “I’ll go if you bring back Scott and let him live.” The words felt empty. I did not desire death, but I was becoming indifferent about it. Death chuckled. “That’s very romantic of you. I’m impressed.” “Then do it.” I stared with lifeless eyes at the shadows under the trees. They danced back and forth in silence. Death sighed. “You know I can’t do that, my love.” I closed my eyes. Back and forth, the shadows danced on the sidewalk. It wasn’t long before he got more direct. He was growing impatient. He had chosen his weapon of attack, and it left me bedridden, in a perpetual state of fever dream, life escaping my body with every breath. My universe stretched to the walls of the hospital room. Life was something that happened to you while you slept. Scott was asleep when he died, so he never watched it approach. But we all have hellhounds, I suppose. Death appeared and stood at the foot of my bed. For the first time, I looked in his eyes. “Why me?” I whispered softly. “Because you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.” I turned away. “That was never my choice.” “Perhaps not, but you still have one last choice to make, my dear,” he said softly. Death held out his hand.