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Death Gave Me A Choice

By @ColorfulAlpaca

“I won’t,” it says, “I promise.” I frown, doubtful. “Ever?” I hear a smile in their sly voice, although they don’t show their face. “Well,” it replies laughing, “that depends on how you continue to live.” I cross my arms, assuming it’s a prank. “And besides, this isn’t a respectable way to go. Old age is better.” Still confused I say, “But I died the way I did, shouldn’t… isn’t that enough to convince you? Is it really important the way I die?” It/they/the gender-less figure that stands in front of me rubs it’s hand down it’s scythe. “It depends,” it replies. “It depends on what? If I’m murdered do I live or does it suck to be me? I wasn’t, of course. But-” The figure shakes it’s “head” and groans. “Just listen,” it says, aggravated, “you can continue to live until I decide otherwise. If you flee from being a good human, as you were in your life previously, you will be brought away from this agreement. If not, you die when you see fit.” I snort and shake my head. “Do you actually have authority to do this? Aren’t you just the death guy?” The hood over the black smoky “head” moves up and down slightly. “Of course. But that also means I decide when death takes over,” it answers, obviously annoyed. “What if I don’t agree?” I ask, still skeptical. “If you don’t agree? Why wouldn’t you?” I can think of millions of reasons, but I recite none. Instead, I shrug. “Alright if, for some reason, you don’t agree, we get on with our being, or not, and forget this little conversation ever happened. However, if you agree, you go back to your previous life, and it’s as if you never died to everyone. You’ll remember this conversation as though it were a dream.” I sigh. “What if I’d rather be reincarnated?” It – Death – mocks my sigh. “I can’t promise you would be,” it waves the scythe and laughs. “Although it’s likely someone like you would, considering your nature.” I cross my arms and shake my head. “Excuse me? My nature? What’s that s’posed to mean?” The options run through my head as it replies. “Your good nature, dear. You were a good person, you’re likely to live again in a new life. Maybe as an ant, maybe as a human.” This seems to shaky, fake, a trick question. “Remind me why you’re telling me this,” I say, “why me of all people are getting this choice.” They/it doesn’t reply. Instead, they ask, “What will it be? Reincarnation, continue living as if nothing happened except a nice little dream to tell your friends?” I freeze, being questioned on the spot has never been enjoyable. “Keep living,” I reply eventually. “As if nothing happened other than a dream. Good choice little girl-” I realize this could be trick. “WAIT! As if nothing happened? I’ll be reborn?”

“No, you’ll be thrown back into the spot right before everything went wrong,” It replies, “and this time, nothing will go wrong. You’ll live until old age.” It reaches it’s boney skinny hand out. I breathe in deeply. “Please don’t let this be a trick,” I whisper to myself, clasping it’s hand and wondering what I’m getting myself into. “One more thing, once you die you’ll have to-” and then it’s gone, without finishing it’s sentence.

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