text: Magic is everywhere around us. In the way we sing, we love and we hate... How we create, dream and achieve. It's in that first cup of coffee in the morning. It's the kids that our parents give us when we scratch our knees on the playground. Magic is everywhere around us. But mine? Mine was in the back pocket of my jeans, in a pink, heart shaped bottle, and as I later found out, it was never ending. At first, it was nothing more than a little trinket a fortune teller had given me. And, well, it was a strawberry lip gloss, and I was right, so... Innocent. Right? I wore it everywhere. It smelled amazing, it had a bit of glitter and didn't have that annoying stickiness that gets on your hair when it's windy. As I grew older, I started to recognize its many, many benefits - for example, it never seemed to end, and no matter what happened to it, I was always able to find it. So, quite naturally, I wore it to my grandmother's funeral. The woman had died of old age, so it was an open casket. I loved her with all my being, which is why I leaned forward for one last kiss, before they buried her. Now imagine the magnitude of my surprise when she rose up from her silk casket and looked around, extremely confused. Doctors chalked it up to a coma (we were all confused), but, hey, I've got my grandma back, what do I care? The thing is that... Same thing happened when my cat gave birth and couldn't feed one of the kittens, so I found it frozen to death. Now, you might be thinking, “Elizabeth, there is a worrisome tendency in your behavior leading you to kissing dead things”, and you would have been correct. Now, in my defense, it wasn't like I went looking for dead people or animals on purpose, they just... Kind of... Appeared around me? And it took some trial and error, and, well, I was convinced I was going insane, but around the 15th ye“coincidence”, I was fully aware that whenever I kiss someone with my strawberry lips gloss... They come back to life. A lovely trick if I have decided to chase a career as a doctor. Alas, I had questions in dire need of answers, so I drifted towards higher education which would allow me to get access to researches and expeditions that were otherwise unavailable to the public. Now, there is an unwritten rule (I have checked!) that what's dead should be left dead. It's something like an universal rule, like the fact that you need to bring a towel, and you shouldn't be eating the yellow snow. Unfortunately, I was powerful and sensitive, and I couldn't bear the sight of... well, death and the pain that it was causing. This, combined with the lack of direct repercussions led to... Well, me, kissing corpses. Not too ideal, as I was strongly relying on my moral compass to decide who lives or dies, but... Well... I was a girl with strawberry lip gloss, running around, making out with the dead. Do I sound like someone with clear judgment? Anyway, it wasn't long before I actually heard from the other world. Actually, Death himself visited me, in my own room, non the less. Just as I was coming back from an expedition, having to spend the last few days digging through... Dust, mostly, to be honest. I had this very simple plan to take a shower, order Chinese food (with extra grease) and just sleep for the next few days. What I received instead was an extremely angry, surprisingly young looking man (not a man technically, as he loved to point out), who was giving it out to me. Now, a normal human reaction when you find an all-knowing, all-seeing, all-whatevering being in your room, accusing you (rightfully so) of throwing off the balance of the Universe and Life itself would be fear. What your man received, however, was... Me. Preparing to get into a screaming match. And succeeding. And I was really angry. I was mind numbingly, throwing things, screaming at the top of my lungs angry. I mean, who was he to decide who gets to live or die? (Apart from, the obvious, Death himself.) Anyway, we got into an incredibly heated argument. He was stating that I am just a simple human (I think he meant it in the sense of “dumb”) and I couldn't just mess around with the essence of life. Now, I will admit, bringing back to life a man who has died in a school shooting, only to find out that he was the one doing the shooting is, indeed, not one of my proudest moments, but I also get good ideas. For example, when the White Rhinos started to go extinct, I personally ensured their survival. (And got a rabies shot in a timely manner). Anyway, my point is that I was just a human and as such, I will sometimes make mistakes. Which was his point too. Naturally, I shared my highly educated point of view, in an extremely calm manner, that, as most men (not a man, technically), he was an emotionally unavailable prick, who excuses his lack of empathy and development under the pretense of rationalization. The fact that this was a job requirement in his case was absolutely besides the point. Anyway, We did not reach an agreement, because, well, who could reach an agreement with such a snobby, self-involved know-it-all? Sure, his hair looked nice and he had gorgeous blue eyes that pierced through my soul (literally), but like... Even this wasn't in his benefit, because it wasn't his actual shape, he just used it on Earth (as my small and tiny human brain could not comprehend his Majesty's actual form. Prick.) Moving forward. I really thought that there is nothing greater than Death (apart from my strawberry lip gloss), but I was wrong. Apparently, I was not the first human that played around with Life and there is a whole committee dedicated to dealing with “the likes of me”. (Direct quote from your man there. Snob.) The prick wouldn't even let me wash my hair before he transported me... God knows where, in my old jeans, with a nest on my head and boots that had three layers of mud. Not only that I was a human, but I was a dirty, unpresentable one. Was I scared? This time, actually yes. Did that stop me from defending myself? Absolutely not. And apparently I did defend myself a bit too well, because... I actually won? Not won-won, the Universe didn't just randomly decide that it's existence it's wrong and I, Elizabeth Archibald, possess the eternal wisdom needed to change its ways... But I had some kind of a point. To the extent in which they admitted that Thomas (this is what I started calling Death, as it did annoy him greatly) was a bit too strict with his rules. So they paired us together. Basically, someone would die, wow would go on site and we would decide together whether he was going to do his thing or I was going to do mine. In the beginning, we would mostly argue, which became annoying quickly, especially when the soul decided to get in the argument too, but overtime... We started to understand each other. He helped me see that sometimes saving a soul would cause more damage than any actual saving, and, well... I helped him understand the opposite. Something else changed as well. In the beginning, we would just meet for business, but as the time passed... Okay, if someone dies in Japan, do you really expect me to *not* stay and explore the sights for a few days? I mean, I'm already there anyways, what's the harm? Yes, this did cause further arguments in the beginning, but sooner rather than later, he grew curious, and eventually find, of the humans. So fond that he decided to become one himself. Mostly because, and those are his words, not mine, I am such an irritating human being, I made him wish to die. Next to me, if possible. After we've spent whatever time we can on Earth together. So... To the committee we went. I had the crazy idea that if I just kissed him, he would become alive, but he had the crazy idea that this would piss off everybody, so maybe we should ask first. I was a firm believer that it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, but we were in a relationship, those required compromise, so... Sure, let's ask first. I had this back up plan that when they deny, I can make out with my husband-to-be and have a tiny win before we get evaporated, or whatever it was that the Committee was doing with the likes of us. So I was highly disappointed when they said yes. I mean, I still got to make out with him, which was cool, but the rebel undertone was gone. There were a few things that we had to take care of, for example, we needed to find a new Death, and this is a whole other story, and I had to give up my strawberry lipgloss, which is why we had to buy you a new bunny and couldn't save the old one, but... Yes, this is pretty much how I met your father.