Samantha's Soul

  “Death. What a word. Five letters that hold so much bitter-sweet anguish. People don't think about it enough I think. Today in Language Arts we finished that book about an old dog that dies right before its owner gets home. The book for once, did not shy away from pondering death. The author gave an interesting angle I haven't considered before; how death ends suffering. In that way, it almost feels merciful. But is it? I mean, in the afterlife there could be anything. No one knows for sure what comes after we no longer breathe. Is it torment, is it bliss, or is it simply lonely? Those seem to be the only optional possibilities. You either burn for your slights, are rewarded for your good deeds, or roam the earth, forever separated from the kind you once called your own. That last one feels the worst out of all of them... But am I already a ghost? A bad luck spirit perhaps? This separation continues to plague me, yet I don't feel alone. It's almost like I'm cau...

   The sounds of the rushing nurses filled the sterile white hospital room as Doctors attended to the laboring mother, urging her to hold on a little longer. She looks sickly, her skin pale and her body a little too thin everywhere but her belly, fighting as she weakly grips her husband's hand with every push. In the shadows across the room stands a looming figure they can't see, Death. He watches helplessly as he waits, fingering his billowing cloak anxiously and gripping his towering scythe a little tighter.      "This has to be the worst part of the job." He thinks, his expression mournful as he watches the hustle.      A cheer erupts as the fragile child's cries fill the room, but it is quickly replaced with shouts of fear as the mother's smile starts to drift away, her eyes slipping closed as the husband shouts for her to fight to stay. The nurses and doctors rushed around for a minute, attempting to revive her with desperate shouts. He watches ...