He comes and goes in her life, as if he is a family member visiting for the holidays but leaving a few days after
One of those days she caught him as he tried to take her mother. “What do you remember?” is all she asks, he is shocked.
Memories flooded back to him. Due to his immortal nature the memories past his youth, they do not stay, instead they fly. As if on the backs of birds.
Death was created, not born. He has been around since the first life. He is there to take it away, He started young and grew as the world did.
He is neither man nor beast. Not even the cloaked figure everyone fears him to be. Death is universal.
He is your truest love but also your greatest fear. Death is fluid, a shapeshifter of sorts. Death plays no favorites.
Death is also balance, He finds himself in the middle, between freedom and enslavement, between liberty and justice.
He is feared but also oh, so welcome. With the amount of poems and stories, He is famous.
Death looks at the girl, the girl looks at him and sees him in his truest form. It was is He was naked, on display.
Death thought for a moment more. He answered, “I remember the screams of soldiers, the cries of parents losing their children.
“I remember the bone snapping of every gladiator. But most importantly, I remember the kindness.
“I remember the hug a woman with Alzheimer's gave,the smiles of the mentally ill,
“The pain I take from them, they’re grateful. They no longer live in pain and suffering.
“My dear, you see, I remember love. Because I am only scary until I am welcomed.
“Once I am welcomed, I am no longer Death. I am Rebirth.”
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