My room is a mess. Standing in my door I stifle a sigh at the sight of my closet vomiting. I step carefully to make sure I don't twist an ankle from a thrown sweater and an abandoned skirt.
"You have nothing to wear." The culprit groans, knowing I'm there without turning around. A tall girl in all black stands in my closet, ripping off my clothes off their hangers, then tossing it behind her when she deems it unfit. Her long hair is grey and lifeless as her as it falls down her back.
"Billy Joel is throwing a party tonight, and I need something to wear while I reap his soul." She says, while I push off a pile of clothes off my bed. I don't see the point of her dressing up, it's not like anyone can see her expect me.
It's kind of morbid, Death itself dresses up for the party you're throwing despite attending in the first place to collect your soul. No black cloak for this grim reaper.
"Oh, this will work." Death finally turns around, holding a faux leather black dress to her small figure, a Christmas gift I never wore. Her eyes are lifeless voids of grey with big pits of black for pupils. She's pale, because she isn't alive so she wears red lipstick in an ironic effort to look lively. Her light brown eyebrows are the only hint of life, her life before she became Death centuries ago.
"To bad, my dad loves Billy Joel." I mumble, falling backwards onto my back. Despite being so quiet Death always hears me, even if I whisper from across the room.
"Well, a life of a rockstar is costly." Death starts, and I hear a zipper. "Drugs, orgies and booze will do that to you." She adds, appearing over me, the black dress fitting better on her than it ever did on me.
"How was school?" She asks. I don't answer, despite the words burning against my throat. They called me a freak, I want to answer. Instead I just pull a pillow over my freckled face. I feel her cold fingers give my small shoulder a squeeze.
"Trust me on this, life gets better after high school." It's so ironic coming from her, Death giving life advice.
"How do you know?" I say quietly against the pillow case.
"Because the number of suicides decrease after people graduate." She says like its a common fact. I let out a forced laugh that sounds more like a cough.
"I'll bring you a swag bag from the party." She says, and the room suddenly warms, meaning she vanished.
Daisy: 12 words
Elijah: 83 words
Death: 75 words
