savior

thirty one

DAY TWENTY ONE; TEN DAYS TO GO

Death looked me right in the face. It had only been a few hours since the fight between Ashton and I. I felt terrible about it all. I shouldn't have said what I said to him. That was super uncalled for. But I was mad. I didn't know why, but I was, and it was stupid of me to take my anger out on Ashton. 

"You really screwed it up, you know," Death said, as he sat on my dresser. I was still lazily laying in my bed, not wanting to get up at all. It was Saturday morning, and I didn't want to get out of bed at all. All I wanted to do was lay down, have someone bring me my breakfast, and then talk to my dad on the phone for hours. 

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Now get out of my bedroom," I said. I was so sick and tired of him coming in here, acting like he knew everything. I mean, maybe he did, but didn't have to rub it in my face. I was hoping he would leave at my command, but he did the opposite. 

He just laughed at me, that creepy, evil laugh he always used. I was hoping Life would come right along and kick Death in the forehead and make him leave. Sure, it would cause an even bigger feud between the two, but I liked Life better. Other than the fact that he had never fixed my toilet seat, and I've been using the other bathroom, he was still a pretty cool guy.

"Looks like I'll be the one winning this little bet thing we've got going on, now won't I?" he said. I almost got up from my bed to punch him in the face. He just had to remind me. 

"In your dreams." 

"Even if I could have dreams, I'd still be winning. After these next ten days, I'll have two new souls to claim as mine, and an even angrier older brother. Isn't that exciting?" Death said, clapping his hands like an excited school girl.

I rolled my eyes. All I wanted to do was be left alone to mope. Ashton was mad at me, and I was the reason why. Everything in my life sucked at that moment. I felt the need to go to his apartment and say sorry until he forgave me, but I don't think he would've let me in. After every word I said to him yesterday, I wouldn't forgive me either. 

I was such a terrible person to him. What gave me the right to treat him like that? He was a depressed boy with suicidal thoughts, who had a rough life, and I wasn't making it any better, like I was supposed to. I was only ruining him even more.

"You're such a girl, Death. First, the whole trying to make your brother angry thing, and now you're clapping like a cheerleader," I said. "Grow up." 

"Boys can be cheerleaders, you know," he shot back, standing up. He took a seat at the edge of my bed. I had enough room to move my feet, and I wanted to kick him as hard as I could. But like I said a long time ago: if he had enough power to set a tree on fire, who knows what he could've done to me? 

I rolled my eyes at his comment and placed a pillow over my head. 

"Look, Regan Armel, I did warn you, did I not? You were just too stupid not to listen to me. All mortals are. Don't take it personally." 

With that, I did the only on my mind. I sat up from my postion, throwing the pillow across the room, and slapped him right across the face. To my surprise, he didn't get angry. Instead, he laughed again, walked over to where I had thrown my pillow, and then he gave it back to me. 

"If you want him back, and I don't know why you would, then just apologize to him and see how he takes it. Got it, Princess?" 

He vanished. I had a lot of work to do.