'It's the leftover humans.
The survivors.
They're the ones I can't stand to look at, although on many occasions, I fail. I deliberately seek out the colours to keep my mind off them, but now and then, I witness the ones who are left behind, crumbling amongst the jigsaw puzzle of realisation, despair and surprise. They have punctured hearts. They have beaten lungs.'
Markus Zusak - The book thief
The confession of Death
There wasn't many times, in my long years, I have wished I hadn't witnessed the passing of a soul.
I was, who I was. I was nothing glamorous, nor anything hideous. My part was simple, collect the souls. It should have been that simple but it wasn't. It was hard not to noticed the ones they left behind. The child's screaming, the woman's pleading or the man's silent tears. Each broke apart in their own way. For each, it hit differently. The pain, the anger, the grief. One could never deny the emotions when a loved one slipped away. For a time, my destiny seemed like a bleak existence. Nothing in the world of man seemed fair.
I tried not get to involved but still, it was any easy mistake to make, getting to close.
Death, I understood and dealt with but it was the love it destroyed that always struck me.
The night the dark wizard walked into Godric's Hollow, I had followed. I knew what was to come, it was in the air but still, witnessing it was always a different story. The dark wizard had yet to find the family, I however sensed them, death looming over them all. They whispered almost silently, quick words passed between their lips. The man with the shaggy black hair, handed the infant across to his lover, leaving her with the sweetest goodbye. A fleeting kiss passed between two lovers and they slipped apart. Not knowing that this would be their final moment together as a family.
As the woman took the child, I followed the man. He would go first.
The dark wizard didn't give the man a chance, with one swish of a wand he was dead.
In some ways I think the man was lucky. He got his death easily.
The woman however, wasn't so lucky.
She was tortured and teased. But still she fought fiercely to protect her son locked in her arms. The dark wizard taunted her, I could see the fear in her eyes as she crossed the room, trying to find away out. She was stronger than most, she didn't cower, she stood tall.
But her undoing was the man slumped on the floor, where he had fallen.
It was the moment that broke her, the moment she lost the fight. She knew her end was here and yet she did something unexplainable.
She saved the child.
As I collected the lovers souls I felt uneasy, the child was still alive. Alone but alive.
But it wasn't my place to interferer, I left the green fog and the burning building, I wonder how long until I would feel the pull to return here, to get the couples young son.
But it never happened, he became the boy who lived.
Many times in passing I watched the boy as he grew into a man. Often I wonder if he would have been better off leaving this world with his parents. His life was much crueller then a boy should have to face. But his destiny was not part of my concern. But still I ran into him regularly. People he loved died for him time and time again. He hurt in ways one can not imagine, for loosing love was harder then death. I pity the boy, when he lost the last link to his father and his mother. Maybe even more so then the young man he had fought along with.
And again he hurt, when his wife passed away in her sleep. I wish they had longer, but again, it's not my job to play fate.
Yes there are times when I wished I didn't have a soul to collect. But there are a few times I am glad to see one. And when the saviour died, I was there, I took him home, back to the lovers, back to all the loved ones he had lost during his years. And I was glad he was finally where he belonged.
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Forgive me for I have sinned. I don't really know about this one, I started reading a book and I was struggling to get into it but the bit at the top stuck, then this happened……