WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST
Cara, a troubled college dropout, finds herself slowly falling for a handsome stranger - who turns out to be Death incarnate. But the arrival of a mysterious being puts Death's home for lost souls and his very existence at risk...
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For the next few days I find myself drifting into grim moods, struggling unexpectedly with Paul's sudden disappearance from Death's home. I know I should be happy for him, even proud: after all, it was my scheming that had helped him to overcome his unfinished business in the first place. But despite his less than sunny disposition, his absence feels like a growing cavity that's sucking the life out of the house. The other spirits can feel it too; Sarah's been acting even more sullen than normal, excusing herself early from meals to shut herself in her room, and even Louis tears through his ebooks with less enthusiasm than normal.
When the remaining spirits had noticed Paul's absence at breakfast the morning following his final foray into the garden, Death had announced in an uncharacteristically curt tone that Paul had "moved on." The others appeared shocked initially, though they swallowed any further questions. No one felt comfortable speaking with Death when the Auditor was in the room. And she was always in the room. Always. I wouldn't be surprised if she stood in the corner with that scowl on her face while he slept each night.
It's not that the others aren't happy for Paul. Of course it's a good thing that he finally achieved his goal in this world, but all of them feel a lingering sense of being left behind, of remembering how unfulfilled they still feel. Even as a living person, I completely relate to that gaping sense of emptiness and that horrible question: What now?
So, to distract myself from the existential horror, I throw my entire being into cleaning out and re-painting each room in the house. It's slow-going, but the physicality is the only thing to get me out of my head – and to stop me from looking for Death around every corner. He ignores me, I ignore him, I think stubbornly to myself, even though every fiber in my body knows that I'm in denial. For whatever reason, the Auditor is dead-set about keeping him away from me, and I wish I understood why. I know it has something to do with the fact that I'm alive, but there's got to be more to it.
The next day, I find myself spilling all of these thoughts and more – sans the mysterious Auditor – to Mem as we furiously draw out a floor plan of the outdoor booths for the Halloween Festival. Which is — I check my phone —
Tomorrow.
Halloween is tomorrow. How on Earth have I already been in Neverton this long?
"It sounds like you miss him," Mem says sagely, sipping on a steaming, oversized mug of "Cara-flavored" coffee that I'd refused for fear of it causing me to slip into another life-like vision.
"I mean, we weren't really close or anything." I shrug and wipe an ink-smeared hand on my jeans. "It's just weird not having him around all of a sudden, you know?"
"I'm not talking about Paul!" Mem nudges my shoulder, her eyes sparkling with something that drains my limbs. "I mean Death."
