Fear Her

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Death's Little Girl

When I looked in the mirror the next evening, I noticed that I looked different. My friends and I always planned a night where we go around terrorising the town. Well, that's what we called our night outs.

It wasn't my Doc Martens. Nor was it the skull on my black dress. Nor was it the MEST badge on my bag.

The cloak and scythe I got a week after my birthday from dad were in their true forms. Because I allowed it. It seemed right. I looked like a true Death. They turned back into the forms I thought of as I put the scythe away in my pocket as a Swiss Army Knife.

When I was ready, I went out. "Don't wait up!" I called as I slammed the door shut.


While me and my friends walked, the smoke from Chris and Nate's cigarettes followed us. We didn't care, it just made our business more serious.

Our night outs usually involved us drinking and insulting the posers we pass by. Sometimes we loitered anywhere we wanted. Nate did the most shots out of all five of us.

I discovered long ago that my friends did not have a high tolerance to alcohol like me. Then again, I wasn't a normal teenager. We had to cut our night out short because my friends were too smashed.


When we parted ways, I walked down the darkened streets. In the park, I saw that there were two gangs fighting. I got out the swiss army knife; it turned into the scythe and my jacket turned back into a cloak as I walked over to them.

The gangs, one Latino, one Asian, were arguing. I realised that they were in fact souls, their old bodies were on the path, dead. They had literally fought to the death.

One of the latino gang members saw me. "Ay! What the fuck is this?" he demanded, his accent was very thick.

"Now I've heard of a fight to the death but this is ridiculous!" I cackled.

"Just walk away, lady. It don't concern you!" A white boy threatened.

"Actually, it does. And I'm no lady. I'm Death. You're all dead, stupid." I remarked.

"That's not true...You can't be Death..." an Asian gang member denied.

"Well, if we're being technical, I guess you can say I'm Death's Little Girl..." I teased. One touch from my scythe and they were all gone.


Back on the streets, I saw that a car had crashed into a random tree. The door was ajar, bottles were strewn on the road. How cliche. I just knew that the driver was dead.

Standing beside the car was the driver's soul. With him was of course my dad. The soul was pleading Death for a second chance. Knowing my dad, he would either make the soul see the consequences of his actions or reap him anyway. It was of course the latter.

As he took the soul away, Death saw me. "Oh look, there's my daughter. Hi Lucinda!" he remarked. He raised his scythe in greeting. I returned the gesture with one of my own. He then disappeared.

I went home.

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