The Untold Story of a Grim Reaper: Chapter 16: Ebenezer

Instinct took control and I ran for cover in the shade of a large oak tree. Sinking into the depth of the shadow it cast. I took a moment to collect myself in this place. I swept open my feathers and wrapped myself protectively around my body. Burying myself in it like a cloak. I concentrated and did what came natural. As if it was innate reflex, the instructions of what Eliakim said to do read in my mind, it was second nature. 

I faded even farther into the abyss of this world and found myself in the sanctuary. The place where I’d have to take the soul I’d soon reap. When I was originally here, and when I was here for my first reaping, I never thought of it as what I thought of it as now. Safe. The real escape from the pain was here. I wished I could have gone back to that. No senses, no recollection, just simple oblivion as my only friend.

I waited for the portal to come that would lead me to the poor soul. Appearing sooner than I would have preferred, the ground in front of me turned to sand and spun in a downward circle. My raven swung in and landed on my shoulder. I felt bad for thinking it was a crow for so long. It proved how little I knew about myself.

I stepped forward and sunk into the quicksand. I arose in a room and was greeted by white light and tile. I was in a hospital room. The loved ones of who I was visiting sat around the room, weeping and cursing to themselves. An older, Asian woman was the only who stood, her tired eyes crowded with tears that had yet to fall.

Her history read on her skin, I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t. It was too heartbreaking yet captivating at the same time. The boy in the bed looked fifteen. She was young for a mother, must have had her son when she was twenty. She spent half of her life caring for this young man and now there was nothing. She had plans, hopes, and stories for him.

No more chances, no more places for him to see, no more moments to share, no more fights to have, no more laughs to remember, no more crying over the little thing, no more lies can be forgiven, no more truth could be admitted, no more advice to cherish, no more lessons can be taught. There was nothing more they could be together. The world may keep turning but I’m sure hers crumbled when she lost him.

I placed my hand on her shoulder, she couldn’t see me, but she felt something. With my other hand I squeezed the hand that lay upon her sons chest. I whispered, “It’s alright. I will keep him safe.”

She contemplated the words I intruded into her subconscious. Giving her a moment to decide I looked around the room. There were three other people. Two boys sitting in the chairs, their faces buried in their arms and they were shaking. The only other girl in the room was lying on the couch. Her hair covered her face but I knew who she was, it was Ellia. She just kept staring at the ceiling, blinking slowly and squeezing her shirt into a ball.

My heart went out for Ellia, I saw my dear Vincent in her. 

I walked back to the boy in the bed and realized I wasn’t ready to do this alone. His mother had removed her hand from his chest and folded it under her arm. She didn’t want to leave but I wished I were alone. I knew she couldn’t see me but I felt like a monster for taking her sons soul while in the same room. 

The pressure to get the job done was building so I did what I was assigned to do. Reaching for my pouch, I unraveled the white horse hairs and picked one of the white stones. Without Eliakim here I was able to work at my own pace. Feel the stone between my fingers and understand what it meant, noticing a single word indented into the fabric: EBENEZER 

With much caution, I gently peaked the boys mouth open enough to slip the small stone in. Also trying not to draw attention to the fact that a dead boys mouth was opening when his loved ones were surrounding him. 

I took another moment then wrapped my arms around myself and placed my palms over the markings on shoulders. Forcing a breath I felt the marks slip into my grip. My wings, acting as a cloak, parted neatly around my arms as I reached for the boy’s throat.

I slid my fingertips into his neck and, as gently as I could, glided the soul out to take it away from everything it knew. The small ball of smoke fussed and whimpered. I brought it closer to my chest as I felt its attempt to kick me multiple times. With much ease, much more so than the first soul I took, it curled itself around me and I felt it holding me as well.

I wanted to tell it everything was going to be alright but I couldn’t lie to it. I couldn’t possibly predict were it would end up but I hoped it was kinder than were I was. 

The quicksand reappeared in the shadows and I knew it was time to go. Before leaving I walked up to the souls mother. I brought the soul close enough to her, hoping to evoke some final goodbyes between them. The soul slipped from my grip and danced around its mother. Unsure if this was allowed I reached for the smoke. The soul seemed to have become angry and blew a cold wind in my face. So I let it be, I let it twirl and dance around its mother until the tension she had in her face and body relaxed. The breath she had been holding released and she let herself cry. 

I prayed that this moment between them would somehow help her cope and for once I was grateful for my punishment.

If I was to be the ferryman, the bridge between life and death, then I was the only one capable of helping people grieve in a way no one alive could ever do. I was going to do my job but I was going to do it my way and that meant letting people have their last moments. I hoped that other reapers did the same and that they didn’t just rip out the souls and deliver them like packages.

Not being allowed to prevent these results though was agonizing. There was so much I could do to help people. Then again, I had that ability when I was alive, it just was becoming so much clearer. 

Has my selfish act led me to this punishment that reflects just that? Selfishness. 

If Jonah is suicidal… there is nothing I can do to save him.

And these thoughts carried a quiver in my knees and a lump in my heart.

I broke from my daydreaming and whispered in a weak melody, “It’s time to go.”

The childlike smoke swam toward me and wrapped itself around me again. 

Turning around I was startled, Joy was staring directly at me, standing inches from my face. If I were alive the expression would be ‘my heart skipped a beat.’ I was paralyzed by the idea of her seeing me, but her eye contact with me did not read that she knew of my presence.

So I walked around her and took from their family what I felt wasn’t mine to take. I felt like a thief but I was thankful to be given this responsibility. I was going to make sure every reaping would be as delicately pursued as this one.

I sunk into the depths of the sand back to the sanctuary, where this lost soul would be judged and condemned in some shape or form. More than anything, I wanted to steal it from God. I wanted to return it to the future that was never written out for it. Was there simply nothing left to inscribe for the boy? Was there nothing left for me either?

Why did our whim outdo our will? Why did the cards all play in our favor for a successful suicide? Why was there no more ‘plan’ left for us alive? 

To die and reap the souls of the living, was this my purpose all along? Was this the only purpose of my creation? Was this all God ‘planned’ out for me?

I realized I wasn’t doing my job as I boiled over the questions of my past. I pried the soul off me and waited for its portal. The door of sand opened and I lay it down to rest. 

It slipped quickly into the swirling sand. I wondered if I would see it again, see it in a new body, leading a new life. But also finding myself envious that it might be granted peace.

I stepped away from the innocent soul and, despite any envy I might harbor, hoped for peace to be its penalty. The ground beneath swallowed itself and smoothed to a flat surface. I faded back into the shadows and back into the world I found little rest in.