The Untold Story of a Grim Reaper: Chapter 2: Bag of Stones

 

The fog pushed aside, making the approaching mass clear to see. Four horses pulled a black carriage; one white, one pale, one black, one red. A tall cloaked man sitting at the reigns. Wide-eyed, I stood petrified by its contrasting nature. Everything around us was simple and pure. Whereas the carriage and man were extravagant and dark.

Benzion nudged, “Don’t be afraid.”

Yet I shook even harder, “Easier said than done,” 

The four horses finally were done making that terrible clicking noise. Standing directly in front of Benzion and I, they huffed and grunted. The hooded figure holding the reins, jumped from his perch. Approaching closer to Benzion and I, gliding a blackened hand over the horse’s side. He stopped once we were at attention; he kept one hand on the horse’s neck, petting it. 

Benzion nodded and talked is if speaking to an old friend, “Finally found your replacement.”

The figure removed the hood. Exposing a pale and harmless face. Not what I had expected in the slightest. He nodded, “I’m sure she will do just fine.” Eliakim acknowledged me, “I have a lot to teach you.”

Eliakim smiled at me and oddly I felt calm. With the painstaking fear arresting my thoughts I felt calmed by Eliakim’s stare. 

Sheepishly, “Thank you, I feel if anyone was to be my teacher, I’m glad it is to be you.”

He nodded, “Very good, as you know, you are to take my place as the suicide reaper. I trust that Benzion has explained the rules. So all that’s left is to deliver you back and to teach you the Reapers Ritual. But the ritual is better taught through demonstration, so I’ll be there for your first reaping.” I was sort of annoyed by his tone, it was compassionate but I could sense a smile under his demeanor. It was justifiable though, his duty as the reaper was over and now he could rest in peace. Eliakim turned to Benzion, “Benzion take the reigns, I know that’s your favorite part.”

Eliakim took my hand, guiding me to the carriage door. I stepped into the black box, my attention captured by the scratches of birds etched into the cart door. 

Taking a seat on one side, Eliakim took a seat at the one facing opposite. Eliakim patted the roof, Benzion shook the reigns, and the carriage rolled forward. 

I avoided eye contact with Eliakim. Staring out the window, which was ridiculous because it was nearly impossible to see anything amongst the fog. Eliakim reached under his cloak, holding out a black leather bag, tied shut with looked like woven horse hair.

Eliakim gestured for me to take it, “Noa, take it. It’s yours now.” I took the pouch from Eliakim, feeling several stones inside. I was not entirely thrilled about my gift as I placed it next to me. 

Eliakim had my attention now so he decided to finally speak, “Being a reaper will change you,” he seemed afraid to say much more, his hesitations read all too well, “And it’s not all good change. But it will all be worth it.”

I was glad he looked away from me, because the amount of anger I was showing was embarrassing. He continued, “This service is said to be the most rewarding out of all sentencing’s, very few are chosen.”

I reply, “What’s so special about it?”

“All reapers become guardian angels, it’s the highest rank of graduation. Well that’s if you can find your peace, some reapers have been around since the dawn of time.”

Not thinking it over, I asked, “How long were you the reaper?”

He responded sternly, “A hundred and forty years.”

The thought of reaping that many lives over that many years made my knees weak. I changed back to the subject that was twitching in my mind, “So… how will I find my peace?”

“To you, I can be no map to this treasure. But what I can be is a compass.”

The boxcar shook as I asked, “How long can you help me?”

“After you complete your two readings, I can no longer assist or mentor you.”

The carriage slowed down and Eliakim turned the handle on the door, “That’s enough for now, we’re here.”

I asked frantically, “Here? Here where?

Eliakim leaned over and placed the black pouch in my lap, the stones inside adjusted, he informed, “You have to keep that with you at all times. No exceptions.”

I took it in my hand, my tone fragile, “Okay.”

He cracked the door open, reassuring me, “Though my help is limited, if you need me just ask and you shall receive. God bless.” Eliakim fully opened the door; the landscape was blurry outside the carriage from the intense fog. Eliakim gestured for me to leave, “It’s alright. You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”

Timidly stepping from the carriage, pouch at hand, an intense fog stirred. 

I hear people talking. I spin in a circle, the carriage is gone, and I cannot pick out the direction of the voices. It seemed to come from every which corner. Feet shuffling, doors closing, papers rustling. This chaotic symphony played in my ear but no source could be seen.

I saw no solution but to start walking. With every step the fog pushed aside, blurring and fading long the horizon. A young boy burst from the fog, bumping my shoulder, “Watch it!” he murmured rolling his eyes as he continued on. Carrying a backpack and books, seeming to be dressed in average attire. 

I spun around again, my eyes fall to my feet. The ground beneath became checkered blue and white tiles.

Pressing on, the chatter became louder and the fog rolled farther out. In somewhat of a daze, I didn’t see it coming as my knee knocks into something. A loud screech pierced the air, startling me backward. I fall into someone behind me, they push me forward and I give a small squeal.

I calm myself enough to notice it was a desk I knocked into. I start to walk backwards in doubt and confusion. I bump another person, the girl mumbles, “Watch where you’re going.”

I stood perfectly still. I couldn’t keep knocking into things, my anxiety was getting to be too much. I forced several large breaths, but no wind came from these breaths. I pressed my heels together and rested my hands to my side. I had to calm down. I couldn’t lose myself. 

I closed my eyes and counted to three. 1. 2. 3.

Upon opening my eyes, the milky fog soaked into the ground and ceiling. Colors splash into existence and take structure. I blink several times before I realize I’m in a classroom. Several rows of wooden desks, yellow and brick walls, a grand wooden desk in front of a white board the took up the entire wall. Besides the building’s structure I was surrounded with the chatter of students and my quivering bones. 

What do I do now? What am I? Who am I? 

People glared at me as they squeezed by me to walk into the room. It took me a second to realize I was standing directly in front of the entrance. 

I was alone. I was no longer Edith… I was this Noa. The Grim Reaper. History knew me well; little did I know that my history would know me as this. Just a day ago, I was blissfully unaware of this even existing. 

Not very sure what to do, I took a seat at the nearest desk. Placing my pouch underneath my chair. Students stammered in as they loudly joked and teased. One boy among a large group noticed my presence; he also made it very clear that he had noticed me. The boy was wearing a black beanie; he did a sly but obvious point towards me as he turned to face his friends.

I sat there almost in tears; everything had been happening so quickly. 

I couldn’t possibly be dead, maybe I’m just losing my memory… or my mind. But I cannot be dead.

Yet I could still hear the gunshot… that was the last thing I ever heard alive.

Soon the authority of the class entered with glasses in his right hand and a sheet of paper in his left hand, “All right everyone, open your bo-” He noticed me and put on his glasses, “I’m sorry, who are you? Are you new here?”

I wasn’t sure what to say, “… Yes…”

“Are you sure you’re suppose to be in this class? I have had no notice of a new student.”

I tried to collect a lie that would make sense. 

Could I lie still? 

“It’s on your desk.” As soon as I said that I flinched at what a stupid solution that was. The teacher turned with a raised eyebrow, as he looked through his desk papers, “Mam, I don’t know where you need to be but I don’t think it- … are you… I’m sorry if I pronounce this wrong… Noa Charon?”

With a scared smile, “Yes… that’s my name.”

“Welcome to Mortimer Private High. I’m Dr. Conrad. Why don’t you introduce yourself to the class and tell us a little about yourself.”

I took a large swallow as I stood, using both hands to help support myself as I got up. I walked to the front of the class and saw the faces of all the youth. Seeing those faces, they all begin to look the same, they all begin to look like the classmates that hurt me.

 I saw the judgment in their eyes, the mocking nature of them all and felt sick by it.

My left hand played with my belt loop as I thought of what to say. I wasn’t sure to be myself or to reinvent myself. 

What would bring me peace?

There was an awkward silence between everyone.

Conrad murmured loudly, “Why don’t you tell us about your name. Charon. That name has a lot of history.”

I had no idea what a Noa Charon was, “Well… my… name… how I got the name… ancestry… and family stuff…”

“Well, alright, Noa. What brought you to this school? You must have had great credentials to get into this private school?”

I wanted more than anything to say that I was at this school because I had killed myself and am the Grim Reaper, but telling people you’re going to take their souls is no way to make friends, “I’m an orphan, the family that just adopted me lives nearby and they sent me here.”

As I stood in front of the class I could see all the students exchanging glances. To those who know what being made fun of feels like, you know what I mean when I say I can hear their thoughts. It becomes a sixth sense, no it’s not some special reaper power, knowing when you’re being teased becomes an ability you wish you didn’t own.

One student whispered to another, my hearing though… that seemed to be stronger, “Why is she holding her breath?”

The other student, “She hasn’t blinked either.”

I wasn’t breathing! I didn’t notice that until then, blinking and breathing turned out to be something I had to make myself do, for I was the living dead, “Can I sit down now?… please?”

The teacher gestured for me to take my seat, “If you have nothing left to say, then be my guest.”

I sat quickly. Through my new ears and paranoia I could hear the whispers as if they were yelling in my ears. There were too many to actually understand what they were saying. I clutched on to my clothes and then I realized I was still wearing what I wore when I died. 

I begin to think about my situation… if this is all true… I am dead. I have felt the sudden shock, lift, and drop from life to death. 

I was bearing the burdens of the dead while living unnoticed on earth. Or as far as I knew I was unnoticed, Benzion told me that there are be others like me… I tried to convince myself that, despite what Benzion warned, maybe I’d find a friend.

I guessed I was in an english class as Dr. Conrad spoke for about twenty minutes on the summer reading for Peter Pan and the essay for the midterm. I didn’t pay attention to anything he was saying. I really didn’t think it mattered anymore if I did well in school. 

What’s the point of getting ready for my future when I no longer have one?

When the bell rang the classmates scattered into the hall, I stayed in my chair as I sat contemplating my situation. The only bright side to this was that I could completely reinvent myself. I was something to be feared. 

What a strange and wonderful secret, I am death.

Death… the thing most feared by man, and I had the power.

Standing from my chair, I grabbed my pouch. Tossing the bag of stones back and forth between my hands, I approached Dr. Conrad to ask the only thing I could think of, “Where can I be assigned a locker combination, schedule…?”

Dr. Conrad looked up from his computer as he finished typing, “The front office, just make a left out of the door. And have them get you a student aid to show you around.”

“Alright, thanks” I smiled as I took my left out of the door. 

I saw students joke and tease to each other as I made my way to the front office. The evident long line of students made it clear to me where the entrance to the front office was. I took my place at the end of the line. 

A blonde girl walked down the line, person to person, asking for their name and writing on a clipboard. Handing them a small slip of paper. I couldn’t help but notice how terrifyingly intimidating the girl was. Everything from her voice to her glare made her absolutely threatening. The other students seemed to share my feelings by the way their body language resided when she approached them. She stood tall and carried a lot of tension in her stomach. Her attire, being entirely black, didn’t help relieve her tense aura. 

I didn’t have much time to get over my anxiety when she approached me. Staring at her clipboard looking rather jaded she mumbled, “I’m guessing you’re new since I haven’t seen you before. Smalls school. My name is Lilli, the office aide.” She cut her glare to me, saying the strangest three words a teenager could utter, “State your name.”

The three words wrung between my temples. She could have chosen any which means to ask my name. But she chose those three words. The first three words I heard when I died. What kind of teenager uses such a phrase? 

I was trying my best to suppress the emotions attached to those three words. Who am I? Was I Edith Rothschild or this Noa Charon? I felt my identity was no longer my choice. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to submit to my label. 

My long pause pushed at her patience, she repeated slowly as if treating me like a child, “State… your… name.”

I coughed to recover. Admitting the name I so desperately wanted to deny, “Noa without an-.”

“Without an H, I know.” She rolled her eyes whilst skimming her paper, “I’ll assign a student aide to assist you for your first week,” She cut her glare to me again but locked her snake eyes on mine. A smirk smeared across her face, making me painfully uncomfortable. 

But looking back at her I couldn’t find a morsel of human quality, it was like looking into the eyes of a mannequin. She cocked her head and finished, “Yah, your student aide, Jonah will be with you in a soon.” She held out a white slip, “Here’s your locker number and combination, you’ll be getting your student ID and schedule when you meet Jonah,” She gave me one last scowl, before grinning, “Welcome, I hope you find your stay here to be something worth living in.”

I grew suspicious of Lilli’s choice if words, I didn’t like them. I felt I had already been exposed before I could even enjoy my secret. I smiled at Lilli to conceal my fear; Lilli mimicked the smile but squinted her eyes with her eyebrows harshly bent. 

As she departed back to the office, I felt a pit swell under my ribcage. I had accepted my title. But did that mean I understood the consequence?