Death

Hate

I really wanted to take him early, if only to hold him in my form and show him how good being with me could be. The innumerable amount of souls in my cloak all jiggled happily. And I wished he could hear their song. I wished that I could show him that those he loved weren't truly gone but were instead all safe and nestled within my folds.
I wished that I could stay and comfort him in some way, but I knew that I had work to do.
The next time I saw him was not in the nursing home. He was a couple decades older this time, but his soul was just as beautiful, even though it had gotten a few more holes. I came for his wife, who was reluctant to leave Andre and their three children. I didn't blame her, and I also envied her. She got to be with him while he was still alive, while I could only have him after he was dead.
Even though her soul had already been introduced to the rest of the fold, he still clutched her lifeless hand on her hospital bed. Their three children draped themselves onto her body and he whispered so quietly, in a voice that only I could hear, "I hate you, Death. I hate you so much."
If I could cry, I would have then. Didn't he see how she would have suffered if she had stayed in that cancer-riddled body? That living that kind of life would have hardly been a life at all? Who he should really be cursing is Plague, who wasn't nearly as sensitive to humans' feelings as I was. But still, I knew the hearts that I had left broken in my wake. Even worse, I would not be able to stay and help this family through their grieving process. I would never be able to reassure them until they too had met their end. Instead, I moved on to the next soul.