Deaths letter to the people
By Will Bennington
Being Death is hard. I’m always the antagonist in your stories, the force to push against until you feel the time is right, even when I win, I lose. I’m not malicious. Death is not malicious. I may occasionally be sudden, or en masse, but as often as I can, I try to be kind. I relieve pain, I cure suffering, and I end all stress. Your depictions of me as a skeleton, clad in a black robe and carrying a large scythe is inaccurate too. I’m not some undead horror of a farmer, sent to darken your doorstep and reap your soul, leaving a rotting husk behind. I am a doctor, sent on a house call with a surgery kit, using my scalpel to carefully cut away the cancerous flesh and bone that all too often fails and gives way, to let the soul and energy be revealed and unburdened. I then set down my tools and become a guide, showing the way to whatever comes next. I understand why you fear me, it is only human nature. You have been trained for tens of thousands of years to fear and hate what you do not understand. Unfortunately, you all cannot understand death, or what happens after, for it is my job to relieve you from this wretched place, and I am very good at my job. All I ask is that you keep this in the back of your mind when cursing me for taking someone you love, they suffer no longer, I will not permit suffering, that I will promise you.