Sometimes Death likes to come and visit me. Long black and red silk robes cover Death's figure. Her hair black with two white stripes up front, rolling down perfectly along her neck, shoulders and back, all the way down to the floor. Eyes, piercing blue ice cold eyes. She can see through my soul and read my most hidden thoughts and desires.

She leads me to secret worlds and realms, she shows me what lays beyond and those who have been long gone. She shows me the past and the future. All otherworlds, all afterlives, all possible reincarnations -- Are there. Pain and suffering, peace and tranquility, happiness, serenity, sadness, hope, and longing. I follow her, with trails of blood rolling down my wrists, as I've always wished and planned. Blood trailing from the rotting corpse that used to be my body.

My body, what is my body anyways? A piece of flesh, blood, muscles and lard all tangled together to create a female form of sort. Some hair, some nails, blank brown eyes hiding more than the person staring deep into them could ever imagine. Nightmares, agony, horrors, sorrow. And while there were many who suffered so much more than I ever have, a soul baring so many scars can only take so much.

Yet Death knows what I feel and hide, what I think and plan. Amused, she takes my hand and leads me towards a cliff. The gales are strong, clouds move quickly through the dark skies and the landskape that lays beyond is that of an endless winter. The bottom is far, never ending prehaps. I breathe as the winds pierce through my lungs. Once. Twice. Three Times.

I look to Death one last time, as she nods, then looking straight ahead, spreading my arms sideways, I close my eyes and let my spirit freefall into the black maw of an endless fall.

(c) Michelle Koren, 2005