Monday March 13th
I was rather sickly for most of Sunday night , and it was a few hours after midnight that I was lying down on the sofa drifting halfway between a bad dream like state and between wide awake there in a pool of my own sweat, stomach virus eating me alive from the inside out, felt as though something alien was living in my chest and was trying with great desperation to claw its way to blissful freedom, and you know how everything seems to vibrate when your sick even the silence of the very early morning hours seems to carry a slight hum to it, and every little noise you hear , you have to listen twice to be sure that it is actually there. In my case it was just after 2:00 Am and it was what sounded like a slight tapping sound on the door, so ever so slowly I look through the peep hole to see who’s on the other side, and I see a black hooded figure with skeletal fingers grasping a piece of paper with a number on it, beneath the black hood I can only see two glowing red eyes. With its free hand it extends a boney index finger and points at me, so I do the unthinkable… I open the door and let it in. Silently with seemingly little effort it glides past me as it enters and a fierce cold chill embraces everything around it as it passes, the chill has an odd familiarity to it to me, and as it turns to face me in the middle of the room though I am ill I clench both of my sweat soaked fists ready to fight every step of the way. It stops and raises it hand palm towards me and speaks to me in a deep sinister voice that echoes through my brain as cold as the air around me, I know this is Death..
“Whoa there mister Scratch, it isn’t what your thinking, I’m here to talk to you, that is all.”
“That isn’t my number then?”
“No Mr Scratch, not yet, there is however another matter that does cause me great concern, And I thought that perhaps you could help shed some light on it for me..”
“Knock yourself out dead man.”
“ I have been watching humanity for centuries, and what I have seen in the past few years has caused me deep concern, nobody seems to fear me as they once did, I do not understand why this is so, the very Young seem to welcome me with precious little resistance old seem to live longer these days I do not understand any of this.. Explain please?”
“Have you ever been to the inner city? South central L.A. Perhaps?”
“No sir Mr Scratch, Not for a while.”
“ There are children there, some as young as five or six, They hear gunshots a half a block away and they don’t even flinch, you are a part of their everyday life , death in the hood, they see people that they know getting shot down every day, a brother , a sister, or a friend.. They grow up watching you harvest, you are always a part of their existence.. always there they see you everyday.. Your no big deal to them..”
“Yeah, I guess I get that, but hey what about you Scratch?”
“What about me?”
“You have to be the first person that has ever openned the door and just let me walk in, What’s up with that?
“Well, I have already rationalized you a million times over, Your no big deal.”
“You rationalized Me?”
“Yeah, your inevitable, your coming no matter what, your just the natural conclusion to life, the end of one thing the beginning of another.”
“No fear then Mr Scratch?”
“ The second a human being is born they begin to die, with each new second they are one step closer to the end, the conclusion…Death.. It happens to everyone sooner or later.”
It turned away and headed for the door but paused halfway there and turned to face me again…
“Say Mr Scratch, there’s this guy I’ve been chasing for the last ten years.. And the bastard is always one step ahead of me.. I can’t seem to find him … any Suggestions?”
“I dunno Mr Death, What’s his name?”
“Osama Something or another..”
“Don’t feel bad, Nobody else can either..”
FIN>>>>>>>>>>>>> Scratch.
