DEATH TOUCH

The cold rain permeated my skin. It was cloudy and dark with no light to be seen. I never wanted to see my loved ones hurt yet they had to watch. Watch the rain sweep my life away in a mix of mud, water, and frost.

The next time I awoke I felt different. Like a weight had been lifted. I felt free. Then I looked around and saw them rise from the ground. I sat up and walked although I felt no pain for some reason. The mountain face had changed significantly, and they followed as I walked around. I decided to return home. Even if they followed. They moaned and groaned but I ignored them.

I wished to be with my parents. My wife and children. I ran without a single break on the hour long run. My house came into view as the red mortar brick house sat at the top the hill.

The rain never stopped, but for some reason it didn’t feel cold. It didn’t feel like anything. I knocked on the house’s door a couple times waiting for a reply. No one came out. That was off. I wrapped around the house looking through the window and saw no one home. Then heard the crying. I felt the mourning somehow. The sorrow and misery fueled me somehow.

I still had him following me with their groans that echoed but had no depth. I walked some more and saw that behind the home was a funeral. My funeral. I sit here feeling a different feeling than I’ve ever felt before. A mix of freedom and sense of dread.

I see my wife in tears with a handkerchief soaked. She trembled and sobbed at the photo of me on my first hike. I try to reach out, but I stop as I felt a force behind me.

They finally intervened. The skeleton merely draped in a black cloak. They had no scythe, but I knew who they were. They were Death. I looked back between my wife and Death, but I knew what meant more to me.

I sprinted and knew I wanted to be with my wife. To tell her I was here. The closer I got, the hotter I felt. I felt my life returning, but suddenly a pressure came down upon me. I reached out my hand, but I could only touch her.

Above me was Death. They watched with their hollow sunken eyes. Their gaze followed even the twitching of my petrified muscles. I was touching her, grasping her shoulder, but I dared not speak.

Finally, Death slowly fell in front of me. Death touched my forehead, and a surge of memories flew through me. My wife, years later watching our children graduate. Seeing them get married. Saying hello to our grandchildren.

My parents on their fiftieth anniversary. My friends helping with making hiking trails safer. My two kids growing up to be a doctor and a mountain rescuer. A hundred sweet memories without me in them. I wept. It was all I could really do. I had died and missed out on all the firsts I had left in life. The regret filled me as I stood mere feet away from my wife. My friends and family watched my grave with tear filled expressions.

I didn’t understand why they showed me these images. Then he spoke. In a raspy, deep, and hollow voice. “This is closure.”

I looked at them with anguish and confusion riddled on my face. I wanted to be back with my wife. With my parents and my kids. With my friends, doing dumb things like the hike that killed me. But somehow…I understood what he meant. It was a twisted sense of duality that crossed my mind. I knew that what I had done in this life meant something even if I could have done more. All that means that I would have to try harder next time. Because life is about never giving up.

I hugged my wife and spoke, “I love you.”

My wife turned and stared up into the sky as the rain parted, with a tear rolling down her cheek but a slight smile starting to appear.

Alexander Yanes comes from the beaches of Miami. When he’s not writing, he can be found watching anime, playing games, reading books, or even drawing. He’s primarily into fantasy, adventure, Sci-Fi, and mystery genres, but shies away from horror. He’s always looking for new and interesting stories to spark ideas and new worlds to life. Follow him on Instagram @alexander_yanes06