Four Times

I own neither Maximum Ride, nor The Book Thief, where this idea sprang from.

P.S. The second time is from Fang.

I met Fang four times.

I saw him first when My Sister, Life, resplendent in silvery golden robes, pointed to him in a crossing of paths. They were playing with Her job, which was irregular for them. From where We stood, We stopped for a moment, remembering the days of simple Life, Death, and all beyond.

That was the first time I saw him.

Time passed, and I met him as a young boy, poison taking from him what belonged to My Sister, returning it to me. Pity seized me, and instead of offering the hand to take him away, I returned him to My Sister, who allowed him to go back.

That was the first time I met him.

I met him a second time.

This time, he was a teenager, old enough to realize who I was. Looking down from our perch in the heavens, he greeted me hesitantly.

"Is that me?" He asked, pointing down to where, strapped to a table, a girl cried over a beaten body.

I nodded. Fear not, my Father rules here differently than you know of him.

"Father?"

I point to a wizened man with a long gray beard in the distance, one hand holding Ignorance, the other Hope. Time has labored long in your world, he is allowed a reprieve in this world.

"I know you, don't I? I recognize your cloak."

For many, I have taken their memories as a gift, yet you retain them as a burden. My cloak is Terror, the thousand screaming mouths upon it are to remind Me of My duty.

"Ah." We wait in silence, for I was not yet ready to take him.

Do you not wish to plea for Life, to beg for a second chance, like so many others?

"No. I'm content with what Life has given me."

But I am not. I wave over My Sister, who offers Her hand to the boy. Compared to Me, She is the embodiment of Good. Hair of silver, feet of gold, rose light seeping from Her existence.

Evil is what I then must be. Bloody red is My body, My tattered rags of clothing gray. It is of no shock when he takes Her hand, while within his world, a girl makes what she believes is a choice. But there are no choices.

That was the second time I met him.

I met him a third time.

This time, he seemed an old friend, for he had been spared twice, more than most. Red seeping from his throat, he fell to his feet to beg for another chance.

Already I have given you two chances. Did you not use My gifts well?

"I did, I did. But it is not for me I ask. I ask for my love, who believes me to be alive, and I wish to return to her."

Did you not promise her twenty years? That promise has yet to be fulfilled.

"I did. And if You will give me just one more chance to return, I will use my time well. I beg You, please."

Time has no master. Yet you shall go. My Sister comes, and for the last time she extends Her hand, and he is gone.

That was the third time I met him.

I met him a fourth, and final time.

He crossed the threshold once more, and for the first time, was not alone. By now he had aged, and instead of being the young, strong man he had once been, an elderly, proud grandfather stood in his place, holding the hand of another woman whom Time had been kind to.

"I'm ready now," he said, and the woman looked into My eyes, unafraid. They stopped, and looked back for a second, and whispered a few words to the world they had known.

Now ready, I extended My hand, and together, they grasp it, returning to wherever they started from. It seems as though they were not afraid, which is unusual. Perhaps they…

It seems I have forgotten already what I was thinking. It is of no consequence, for Time is everlasting, and I have no wish to remember every mortal with a plea for Me.

Wow, that was depressing. Please review, because then I will love you forever and ever. Go!