The woman in all black quietly stood behind a teenage girl who was standing on the edge of the Matthews Bridge. Tears were streaming down her face as she sobbed cries of anger and resentment. The woman solemnly shook her head, knowing what she must do; she grabbed the girl's hand. The girl glanced at the woman, her wet face cooling off in the wind, quickly snatched her hand from within the woman's grasp. The dark-haired girl backs up and runs away.



A brother and sister sit quietly at a crowded table full of outcasts just like them. Even though they're sitting with a throng of people, they both feel alone. Finally they can't take the pain anymore and run into the hallway, hand in hand. They run and continue to run until they run smack dap into an unfamiliar woman dressed in all black.



"Where are you two going?" the woman questions them.



"Away," the blonde girl whispers.



"Why?"



"We're tired of the pain," the dark spiked haired boy explains. "We just want to get away."



"You two are very attractive people. I don't understand how you could be feeling so much pain. I'm sure everyone is dying to be your friends." The woman suggests.



The girl laughs. "And then you woke up. Now excuse us---"


"Don't go children," the woman tells them grabbing their hands. They shrug her off and run away.




A young boy with dark, curls, sits quietly in his classroom, tears streaming down his face. His teacher continues her lecture, paying him no mind. His friend asks him what's wrong. "Nothing," He whispers, knowing if he says anymore he just might explode. He leans forward on his desk and let the memories of the past events flow through his head. His parents had invited all their friends/coworkers to a dinner party they were having for their 25th anniversary. He had stayed in his room, knowing he would be uncomfortable if he stayed with the dinner guests. His mouth had become dry so he climbed downstairs and crept into the empty kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out an almost empty container of apple juice. As he swallowed the juice, he glanced around the house. Everyone looked familiar. He recognized everyone from Mr. & Mrs. Sanders, to widow Mrs. McKenzie. Except there was one woman in all black which whom he didn't recognize who was hugging his parents. As soon as her and his parents broke apart, she turned directly in his direction, staring him dead in the eyes. Frightened he ran back in his room, and didn't come back out until the next morning. A week later, his parents died in a car accident.



Tapping on the classroom door, snapped him out of his memories and back into reality. His teacher whispered to the woman at the door and then returned to the classroom. Looking the boy dead in the eye, she told him to go outside the classroom, a woman was waiting for him. Slowly he walked out, butterflies flying his stomach. The woman turned out to be the same woman in black that he had made eye contact with at his parents' party.



"I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your parents." She whispered to him.

 

"It's okay," he replied. "It wasn't your fault."



She pulled him into a hug and whispered, "But you're wrong. It was." Freaked out, the boy pushed her away and ran off into the distance.



Today I sit against my brick wall, with a black gun in my hand. I know who the woman is, and unlike the rest I'm prepared. Miranda Sanchez was a fifteen-year-old teenage girl who couldn't handle the "stress" in her life and inevitably jumped off the Matthews Bridge. Matthew (Matt) and Elizabeth (Lizzie) McGuire  were found in their rooms with a rope tied around their necks, holding hands. A note was found on them, which read: "We're tired of the pain. We just want to get away." David Gordon(Gordo) was found dead in his bed, an empty pill bottle stood on his dresser. He died from an O.D. of painkillers. Soon I hear a tapping on my door and without any doubt know who it is. "Come in." I whisper.



The woman in all black slowly walks in and gives me one of her death frightening stares. "Hi, Veruca." she greets me, sending shivers down my spine.


"Who are you?" I ask her, faking as much confidence as possible.



"Oh, Veruca I think you've figured it out. But if you must know, I'm what everyone hates, what everyone runs from, what everyone tries to escape from. I'm Death." She answers confirming my suspicions. "And as you already know, it's your time. Please don't be like the others, and make it harder for me than it already is."



"Sorry Death. But it's not that easy." I pull out my gun and shoot ten shots, and the bullets like pieces of candy tumble to the ground.



"It's useless," she tells me. "Now take my hand." And with much hesitation, I reluctantly take her hand, and immediately I see the light. I later found out, I died from gunshot wound to the head.