death my dear old friend.

 I was sitting at the bar. It was a familiar scene for me; the marble floors, the redwood bar, the dim but not too dark lights, the unlimited drinks but no bartender, and finally, the grumpy but attractive man sitting next to me. 

Another guest arrived, and he stood from the comfortable silence. “This is how it works,” death started, “you pick the gam,e and we play. Cheating is allowed, but if either one of us is caught by the other, they lose. If you win, you’ll wake up back in the hospital, and I’ll give you another ten years. If you lose, then it’s time for judgment. Understood?” death said, sitting done and gesturing for the person to sit as well. 

“What about her?” the person gestured to me sitting at the bar. “Oh, I’m here often, don’t worry, you can go first,” I said, not even looking at them, and gave a wave of my hand. “How is she here often?” they whisper to death. Death let out a sigh and pinched his nose. He was used to the question and would answer differently every time, so I looked forward to today’s explanation. 

“Because she fails at dying,” death grumbled, but it only made the person question it more. “Sweetheart, you should be worried about what game you wish to play,” I replied, turning around, finally seeing the new guest. 

It seemed to be a young child. They were wearing a hospital gown and seemed to shiver at the coldness of the room. “Death always the ass hole,” I muttered, slapping him up the back of the head. “Are you even trying into day’s competition?” I questioned, picking up the child. 

“Let’s get you dressed and something to eat, then you can tell me what game you want to play, k?” I said, walking to the back room. Dressing the child in leggings and a bagy shirt, I walked them over to the bar. There waiting was mac n cheese. Could the child at least have an original idea for favorite food? I thought, helping them up. 

The kid ate, and I talked to death. “you’re supposed to make the guest like you that way. I can finally die,” I grumbled, glaring at the man. “You realize you are asking the imposable, right? I have no need nor want for the child to like me. I just need to see if today will be the day on their stone,” he replied, ever the stoic. “And what about me? you know I’m over a thousand years old, and I still look 17 because of you, right?!” I growled only to stop when I felt a tug at my leg.

“Miss, I think I found the game I want to play…” the child said, hands clenching tightly to my pants. “Alright, and what might that be?” I questioned my hand on top of their head. “I want to play tag… I wasn’t allowed to play it, so I want to try it,” they whispered, looking at the ground. 

Children have it rough in the world, I thought thinking about the strangely high number of children I’ve seen come through this room. The game started, and I keep death in line so that the child could experience some joy in their short life. They giggled and laughed and seemed to have a good time which made a dull pain settle in my chest. I finally caught them, and the game was over. 

“Thank you, miss. I hope to see you again,” they said, smiling brightly as their body shattered to the ground like crystal. “And it seems that yet again you have won,” death muttered, rubbing my back as I cried. “I will never become cold like you; this is proof that I have yet to become heartless in the years in which I’ve lived,” I growled but still leaned into his touch for comfort. 

“You forever will be too good of a person for the world in which you are trying to save. I remember when you first came here, you were so determined to return with more information to help save more people, the same people who later that week burned you at the stake. You repeat the same process over and over again. Here is the next thing you asked for, a cure for pneumonia.” death muttered soothingly. 

“I’ll see you again soon, my dear friend, and with this, I will save more of the world,” I muttered before waking up in my room. Curling tighter in the covers, I mourned the child’s death. 

Comment thoughts or comments you take on the prompt below!

the wrong number!

 It was early Saturday morning, and like any other day, I checked my phone first thing. (666) 666-6666: hey, can we move brunch from Saturday to Sunday? God’s pissy again. I blinked a few times. My friends are fucking with me again, I thought, not replying to the strange message. Moving downstairs, my mother blinked at me “didn’t you have brunch today?” she questioned, confused. 

“How did they get you in on this? Huh?” I asked, moving to the coffee pot. “What are you talking about? You were the one who told me to had brunch with some hot guy today. Rember last night you said this, then again you just came back from another party,” my mother said, going into thought. “Well, it got moved to Sunday,” I said, taking a swig of my coffee. 

“Roseanne, we have church on Sunday!” my mother said glaringly. “And the last time I followed bible scripter was when I was 6. I see no point in wasting time there anymore,” I said. We have this argument every weekend, and it ends the same my mother tells the father that I’m sick.

“God will turn his back on you, one day, child,” my mom said, standing and walking away. “He already has!” I called after her. Could you imagine being eight being multilingual but not able to read? Whelp, that was me! Now I spend Friday being a stupid young adult and the rest of the time being in a doctoral program at 20. Picking up my phone, I finally respond to the number. 

Rose: hey! Honestly, who cares if he’s mad, but if it makes you more comfortable, then yeah, let’s have brunch on Sunday! I replied. 

(666) 666-6666: man! You weren’t kidding last night, huh? Why not both days? That is if you can stand him nagging…

The number replied and smiled nothing about why I wasn’t a good Christian. This will be fun. I can feel it! 

Rose: just give me the address. I’ll make my way there after changing. Last night’s dress isn’t appropriate for brunch with grumpy Jesus! 

I reply, smiling for the first time in a while. Why did I feel so bubbly inside? Going upstairs two steps at a time, I stripped off the tight clothes and grabbed a lovely sundress. The dress and cream-colored with red splashed and images of old medical tools. I chose the dress because it showed my sigil tattoo, which rested in-between my shoulder blades. 

Grabbing my phone, I yelled upstairs that I was going out. Checking the address, I hopped into my car and was off. When I say this place was weird, I mean like what the fuck type of weird. I live where there isn’t as much as a hill, so do pray tell how there was a fucking mountain in the middle of town sudenly?!

Pulling up the drive, I slid out of my car and walked to the door. An attractive man answered the door. He had black hair and red eyes. The song candyman popped into my head, seeing him. 

“Wow, you really won’t his to be mad, huh?” he asked, grinning, eyeing my dress. He was leaned up against the door frame. “Well, I tried my best,” I said, smiling. He tilted his head, telling me to come in. Right when I walked past him, a voice called from another room. 

“Lucifer, I swear to me, if you don’t get in here, I’ll find a way to drop you from heaven again!” the voice yelled. “Sorry, he was letting me in. I hope you don’t mind, but he and I already had plans, so if you fine with third-wheeling, that's great!” I said, walking into what looked to be a dining room. The room looked like it could be in a magazine for people to cope with their dream home. 

Now the man was already seated at the table. He looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. He had long hair, a face turning red and overall nothing like what they said Jesus would look like! “Lucifer!!” the man yelled. As if summoned, the man from the door was there, the amusement painted on his face. 

“Hey, controlling humans is your job. Mine is to have fun, and this was fully by her choice,” he said, putting his hands up. Sitting down, I smiled at the pissed-off man “what should I be quoting the bible here?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“And what will you do if you end up in hell?!” questioned the pissed-off man. “Probably look to the ceiling surrounded by fire and fold my hands then say, oh thank god I’m finally with the fun people!” I exhaled, going through the motions. At first, the man seemed to get smug, then it dropped, and lucifer’s laugh filled the room. 

“I knew I liked something about you! Few people would say that to the man himself! So god, how does it feel?” Lucifer asked; god, stormed out of the room, done with the conversation. “Wow, I’ve never seen him leave so fast. I think that’s a record,” Lucifer said, grinning. 

“Your welcome?” I questioned, picking up the glass in front of me. “Hmm, so what do you want as repayment?” he asked, and I scrunched my nose at this. I did that for my entertainment, nothing more. “Immortality? Wealth? I can literally give you anything,” he said, giving suggestions. 

“But I have no want for those things. Immortality ends in loneliness; wealth ends in grim death.” I shot back. “Huh, you are strange. Do you have no desires at all? I could kill people for you!” he said, pushing the point. “Material things a fleeting, immorality is eternally caged to your struggle with self-worth. The death of someone will cause more paperwork for me later. So no, I wish for nothing,” I replied, still sipping on the drink. 

It tasted like heaven burned like hell, and I could feel it already taking effect. Whatever it was, I wanted more whenever I get a chance. “Your different… most people have a wish a desire something. You are the first I’ve found the seemingly has none of that. What would you truly do if you ended up in hell?” he questioned. 

I was getting annoyed with this constant questioning, so I stood up, no longer have that fun, exciting feeling. “The path to hell is paved with good intentions, and some people are so good at being bad they find them selfs at Heaven gates, so what does it matter? Heaven and hell are just a place I’m sure I could find out something to do in either,” I replied, swaying. Fuck was that drink strong. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m rather irritated and will be finding my way home,” I mutter, going to walk away, but the room jets to the left. Lucifer caught me and smirked “don’t go falling for me,” he said, and it just pissed me off more. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t fall for people who say they hate religion, then bring it up every sentence,” I muttered, drifting to sleep, unable to hold my eyes open any longer. 

Comment thoughts or comment your own take on the prompt!

mom's favourite?

 Hello, my name is rose. I’m the second child of 5. My older brother is a world-renowned military genius and is sitting pretty as a general at 20. My younger sister has uncoded the way to curing cancer and turned 16 this year. The youngest two have normalized travel to other plants and are now searching to find terraforming planets; they are 14. 

Mom was an ordinary nurse till zack, the oldest, was born. Dad was a politician, to be exact, a foreign diplomat. Mom is always doting on me for being average. I get the most attention out of the five of us. Dad still grumbles that playing favorites is terrible, but he loves my ‘normalcy’ as well. 

Now, here’s what they don’t know. By day I’m the lovable average child ‘struggling in college; by night, I’m the world’s best detective. Before his image even pops in your head, get rid of the sinful image of sherlock homes. If he was good as they say, why did he have to leave his own bed’s comfort to solve crimes?

“Rose, it’s time for dinner; put away your homework!”  my younger sister yelled, slamming my door open. As usual, she lacks tact, another reason I won over the parent. My siblings can’t see past their noses when it comes to the benefits of prenatal affection. 

You see, I’ve been playing this game since young, slowly controlling everything in the house. My parents never the wiser. Sitting at my place next to mom at the table, she set a plate in front of me. “Do you need help with your homework, sweety? You seem close to tears,” mom said, brushing her thumb over my cheek.

“Mother, you baby rose too much. What will she do once you guys pass? If she can’t get through college,” zack said with a growl. You see, zack never liked me, for he never liked losing; he lost mom’s undividable attention with me here. Flashing zack a grin, I started to hic-up and sob. 

“Zack! Apologize to your sister! It’s not her fault she’s not like you guys!” mom said, pulling me to her chest and petting my hair. The disgruntled look on my brother’s face was priceless, and he bit out an apology. “Now that enough everyone calms down, let’s eat,” my tired father said, sitting at the head of the table. 

While eating, I zoned out of the boring conversation till something caught my attention. “The government said they are going to hunt down the anonymous detective R,” my father said, and I snapped my head to him, almost choking on my food. 

“W-why?” I questioned, coughing. My mother looked at me, concerned, rubbing my back slowly. “Rose, you have to eat slowly; what would I do if I was left alow in this house” my mother scolded me, and I gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, mom, but why would they hunt the detective that single-handedly solved so many murders world round?” I asked my father again. 

“ They believe that the only way they could solve the murders without stepping foot in the crime scene was by orchestrating it,” my father said, surprised that I would take an interest in the mundane dinner talk. 

“Excuse me,” I muttered, putting my fork down. My carefully layed puzzle was falling apart before my eyes, and I wouldn’t let it. Walking back to my room, I opened my laptop and wiped the drive clean. If they dare suspect me, then they deserve what is coming to them! I won’t solve a single murder more, and good luck finding me.

It’s been a week, and honestly, I feel like a crake addict the quit cold turkey. Mom has been more clingy than usual, or maybe I’m just noticing it more. Classes are so dry I find myself falling asleep. And the news is on repeat ‘why has the anonymous detective R disappeared.’ Some suspect that I ran because people were right about me planing the murder; others blame the first group. 

Walking up the driveway to my house, I found flashing lights and my mother crying on the porch. “Mom, what’s going on?!” I questioned, running up to the porch. “It’s your father; he was arrested. They said that the detective r was him,” my mother said, crying. 

“... fuck this,” I muttered, causing my mother’s eyes to go wide as she looked up at her ‘quite, normal’ daughter. “Oi Sargent, if my father is the detective, then riddle me this,” I said, walking up to him I knew what he looked like hell I knew every last one of them. 

His face went blank then his eyes lit up. “So the criminal mastermind was you,” he said, smirking. His smirk dropped when he saw me smile. “I’m not criminal, but you are, and if anyone in my family gets arrested the moment their name reaches the system. I will drop off dirt on everyone involved to the chief judge.” I said, getting close, my sickly sweet smile never stopping as I leaned into his ear. “And I’m sure he would love to know about your domestic abuse issues, substance abuse, and taking of bribes. Just remember you pissed off the wrong person,” I whispered before walking back to my shocked mother. 

“Why did you hide this from us … from me?” she whispered, and I lead her into the living room. “Because your need for a normal child after zack was pushed on me, and I would say it would have been fulfilled perfectly if not for the government’s stupidy,” I reply in my normal voice. “I-i pushed you to do this?” she questioned, looking around. 

“Honostly, mother, did you think it was possible to have a normal child with your genetics? You and father are carriers, meaning all of your children would get the full brunt of the SGC4. Therefore none of us could have ever been normal.” I explained, it was the first time speaking at my total capacity in this house, and man, it felt nice. 

“Ha, I knew it your not normal!” zack said, making an appearance. “And I am no longer the favorite,” I shot, backflipping him off. It was no longer my job to please mom with being average, and I was going. Ironically on the day of my 19th birthday. To enter the world finally.

comment on your thoughts or comment your take on the prompt!

why

 I am creating this blog as an extended platform for my other accounts. Here I will write short stories to better write, express myself, and encourage people to do the same. If you are here, I’m happy for you to want to get to know me better. Life is short so let’s keep our imagination for as long as possible!