beautifulviita:
❝ both. ❞
she lets out a soft sigh, frowning. it was obvious to see that she was deeply saddened. lifeHATED funerals — it always meant the inevitable end of someone’s life & while there wasNOTHING she could do about it; she still hadn’t properly gotten used to them in all of her years of EXISTENCE. but this funeral in particular, HURT much more than the others.
❝ I — I knew this woman a few decades back. she was a good friend … a good person. ❞
oh, it hurt way more than she would ever admit. ( it was the same every single time. ) she met someone, she became friends with them & then she LOST them. ( … there was never enough time. )
❝ … & then, yes, I assumed that you would be here as well. ❞
It almost feels guilty. Life in pain, emotional or physical, has never been its goal, but it must do its job. Death watches her out of the corner of its eye, though it keeps its head tilted slightly forward in respect for the proceedings.
“She was a good soul,” it finally says, using the soft tone it usually reserves for guiding younger souls. Death is not adept at comforting those who aren’t dying, but it is at least trying for her. “I ensured she did not suffer at the end.”
Death starts to reach out to touch her and then thinks better of it. In a way, it is the cause of her pain, and Death’s unsure if its touch would be welcomed right now. Instead, it clears its throat lightly and asks, “Was there something in particular you wanted from me, or is this simply a social visit?”
