A Reaper's Mission

Chapter 5: David's Sin (David)

What is going on? There is only darkness. Everywhere I look. Alone. With my thoughts. Reaper's terrified face enters my mind; the last thing I saw before I disappeared into a door. A door I never thought I would go through.

I feel nothing. I see nothing. I hear nothing.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Don't lose yourself.

How long have I been here?

Is Reaper...Emma okay? Little Guy? I try to pull their faces back into my thoughts, but they slip away leaving me in darkness. With nothing.

I can't think of anything meaningful. Only the darkness. Only that I am thinking. Am I thinking? Is there anything to think about?

Think about Emma. Think about Little Guy.

But there's only darkness.

A flash of light. I see it. I want to go there. Anywhere can be better than here. I want out of the darkness. I think of swimming over there...but do I even have a body? I try to move my arms, but I can't tell if anything happened.

The light gets brighter. It's getting closer. I can feel its warmth. Please hurry. I try to look down to see if I have a body, but all I can see is the brightness. It's so bright. It's all I see. The warmth is suffocating. It's getting stronger. Am I finally burning?

Then the brightness fades a bit leaving only a grassy field with a tiny wooden cottage. There is a terribly built wooden fence surrounding the property. I look to the left, instinctively knowing what would be there. The crops. The crops that Mary and I worked hard to keep alive to sell them in the market. I look to the right, to the much better built barn holding the animals. Next to the barn was the chicken coop, easily the best-looking building here. Pa helped me build it.

I see movement out of the corner of my eye. Mary coming out of the house. Her blond hair is shining in the sunshine. Her clothes are a bit raggedy, but we couldn't afford better. Mary heads toward the barn, basket in hand. Must be collecting the eggs. I hear the familiar clip-clop of horse hooves. I look over my shoulder and jolt when I see me.

Thick dark hair, falling into his...my dark eyes. His...my hair is long and pulled back into a ponytail. He is riding a beautiful black horse...Knight. Mary named the beautiful beast. I feel a pang in my heart.

I'm home.

I follow my younger self's movements as he jumps down off Knight. He leads the horse towards the barn. Mary comes out from behind the barn, looking disturbed. Our chickens never produced eggs. My younger self yells a greeting out to Mary...and I already know he has a huge goofy smile on his face. Whenever Mary was around, I couldn't help it, she was truly the love of my life.

Mary's blue eyes flick over to him; she makes a poor attempt at a smile. I feel a stab in my heart. I now knew how unhappy she was. How much she hated absolutely everything surrounding us. She couldn't help but blame me for our poor lives. She wished we had stayed and lived with Pa and Ma. At least then we would have had chickens that produced eggs.

My younger self couldn't see it, so blinded by love for Mary. Blinded by foolish dreams.

I close my eyes and suddenly I am my younger self. I feel the leather of the reins in my hand, and the gentle pull of Knight wanting to hurry inside for his rest. I turn to my left and see Mary looking at me. She looks so beautiful. She walks over to me and stands on her toes to press a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Welcome home." She says, pulling back with a gentle smile on her face. She loves me. I always knew she did. But I also know that a small part of her heart that resents me.

"Glad to be back." I murmur, mesmerized by seeing her again. So close and yet so far. Not even in Heaven did I see her. She and I never crossed paths there.

"I'm heading in to make some vittles." She says, turning to walk back to the house. I felt the pang in my heart. Why am I here? Am I supposed to live everyday knowing she hates me? Am I supposed to stay with her knowing I can never be with her properly again?

I feel the pull of the reins and remember my task. I lead Knight into the barn and into his stall. I take off his saddle and reins. Knight shakes his head, as if showing how happy he is to be free.

All of this feels faintly familiar. Is this a memory? Must be considering I don't have the scar on my forearm. So, this was before...

But how long before that?

I stand there considering what memory it could be when Mary's scream pierces the air. My head jerks up. My heart drops and then starts beating rapidly. My mind starts working through what to do...and then it clicks as my eyes fall on the rifle.

No.

I reject going to the rifle, but my body moves on its own. It rushes over and grabs the gun. It feels cold and smooth in my hands. I rush out of the barn and the sunlight blinds me. I raise the gun, not knowing what I am pointing at.

Please.

My eyes adjust and I see Mary on the porch...and the figure at the end of the steps holding a knife. I try to resist, but my body goes against me. My finger starts to push down on the trigger.

NO!!

The loud bang of the gun fills the silence. The birds flutter in the aftermath, as they flee the scene. Knight huffs and puffs, nervous by the loud noise. Mary screams once again, shocked at the loud noise and the body that falls to the ground.

Silence envelopes us.

Mary starts to cry, her loud sobs filling the air. The body I'm in rushes over to her, but my mind is not with her. It's with the tiny figure that had curled into the fetal position. The last act the figure ever did. I feel the body engulf Mary into its arms, pressing her face into the chest. I feel her hands claw at my back, seeking comfort. But my mind thinks only of the figure.

The figure that probably barely had the strength to hold the knife, let alone stab someone. A body so thin that you could count the ribs. The figure whose eyes stare blankly at the open air around him.

A little boy.

The little boy I murdered.

Back into the darkness. The sweet, sweet darkness. I feel my heart racing. And then the sobs came. I sob for Mary who had to see the awful sight. I sob for the sin I committed. I sob for the little boy whose life was cut way too short.

All because of my idiocy.