Dreams of a Boy Called Flowers

Death Calls

 I am missing, yet I am not myself. Different homes, faces, and events flood my memories. Peabody, Rose, Death, a task. Numbly, I stumble down the deserted road to a specific house. It was calling to me and so I adhered to its pull. After knocking, a man in his early twenties opened the door. I managed a hello and introduced myself as Peady. The man was rightfully confused, but let me in any way. He introduced himself as Gabe and told me he didn't receive guests very often. I smiled politely as he put on some tea and told me to make myself at home. There were people worried and searching for me, yet here I was having tea at some strange man's house due to unclear instinct.

 We ended up talking for a while about his life and how alone he felt. It was apparent he was clammy and nervously shaking, looking as though he hadn't slept or eaten in days. Then he suddenly went silent, gaping like a fish, and fell out of his chair onto the floor, twitching spasmodically. I dived to the spot next to where he collapsed and fished out my phone to call an ambulance. The next few hours went by in a blur, but I spoke to him, to his spirit as it released from its mortal shell. "My name is Peabody. I've been missing for many months. My single purpose is to comfort the dying." Then he was gone. My purpose was fulfilled, I answered the police's questions as truthfully as I could and went on my way.

 Moments were blurred as I stumbled forward, following the path my instincts were leading me on. When my conscience returned to me, I was in a familiar garden, home. My parents, Rose, it's been too long. I rubbed my temples to focus and rid myself of the numbing pain as I crept around the side of the house, just in time to see blonde hair and a bandana pass through the front door. She was returning home from school, or work..... or even therapy. Rose, being the older of our twinship, has always been very protective of me. My disappearance probably affected her the most. The next moment was hazy as I was enveloped in her trembling arms. She had noticed when I walked in behind her.

 They fell when our parent's voices cut through the silence. They were arguing. Over me. The less human part of me momentarily wondered why I was so important to them that I'd fit into their argument. I was already dead. When her face moved away from my shoulder, I saw she was crying, her eyes wide and I was back to feeling like just Peady. She whispered, "We should go," before quickly tugging me back out the door. When outside, Rose and I slowly began walking together down the bike path. I was only partially aware that she had been speaking to me. She was babbling nervously about how much she missed me and how distant our parents had become since I went missing.

 I wanted to tell her that everything was okay again, that I was back and we could be a family again, but I knew that was only a pipe dream. I was here for one reason. Death. And I'll be here until it overtakes me. I knew I could never come back. I stopped, then she stopped a couple of steps after me, a sad, longing look on her face. "You're not coming back... are you?" That was all she could manage. She knew me. I shook my head wearily and apologized. And suddenly, I was being pulled into a new direction, with Rose following closely behind. We didn't exchange another word as we walked to where my instinct was pulling me this time. I knew she was curious, but she would find her answers soon.

 We headed silently for a perfectly normal house and I wasted no time in knocking. This time it was a man in his early fifties. He looked sullen, depressed, maybe even understanding. He didn't let us in right away but silently studied us. "You don't look like Hospice," he said in a gruff voice. Was that supposed to be a joke, or was he serious? Either way, his time was limited and no Hospice nurse could save him from it. Death was already here. I fumbled for a believable lie, then quickly explained that we were here to do our required community service to graduate high school and that the hospital directed us here because he might be in need of assistance.

 The man eyed us suspiciously, then grinned, letting us in. "I was just getting hungry, too. Either of you good at cooking? I would enjoy some stew." I smiled apologetically back to my sister as we entered the man's home. Rose immediately and unquestioningly busied herself with making the man some stew and I sat with him in his living room to chat. The man's name was Bill, as I could tell from the name embroidered on a throw pillow. He went on and on about the great adventure he went on as a young lad and of the beautiful girl he met and married while overseas until Rose finished making his stew. It seemed as though Bill just wanted someone he could hang out with.

 Rose pulled me aside as Bill began eating his stew and flooded me with questions about why we were here and why we were doing this and why I had told him that lie, but the man's time was etching near. I had no time to appease her stubborn curiosity. Shaking my head, I gave her the only answer she would understand; "Rose, he's dying, I just have to help him." I knew she'd still protest, but it was too late. I needed to get to him. The door was wide open and Bill was scrambling down the porch. I dashed after him, Rose following a short distance behind. As soon as my foot landed in the grass, it was as if I had stepped into a bubble. Everything was blue and slow-moving around us.

 I caught up with him just as he collapsed near the road, then everything rushed in like the ocean was sweeping us away. I was dizzy, and my vision was a blurry blue. As I closed my eyes, the faint sounds of sirens filled my mind. It was jarring yet it lulled me further to unconsciousness. Was this it? After so many months of being Death, was I finally being overcome by it? Everything was slipping. My life, my parents, Rose, I'd leave them all behind, but I was oddly at peace with this fact. At least they'll know what became of me. A smile spread across my face as I let the current take me and died knowing my task was finally complete. My position as Death was being passed on to another poor soul.