Reaper's Redemption
“You’ve got another soul to reap. A week from today.” The file is tossed onto the coffee table I’m sitting at, but before I can look up to see who’s dropped it, they’re already gone. It’s just a part of the job. Not that it’s even really a job, more like a punishment. They like to sell it as an alternative to eternal damnation, which I suppose it is. It’s for people like me, who weren’t terrible people when they were alive, but who weren’t good people either. I was closer to the edge of terrible, I did some things I’m not proud of and didn’t like the person I was becoming. So, when I died, and they offered me the chance to be a Reaper to gain my redemption of course I took it.
I sigh as I pick up the file and flip through the pages. Receiving a file means that somebody’s about to die, and I’m the guy that shows up to make sure things go smoothly, and to retrieve the soul for holding until it’s decided where they’re going. Hence the term, Reaper. We aren’t the ones that decide who dies or when, we just show up a few days beforehand and stick around for the souls. People tend to get skittish when they leave their bodies, which is understandable, and why we must be there. If we aren’t there in time, those souls get a little lost, and then we can’t help. They end up stuck here, wandering for who knows how long.
“More coffee sir?” The waitress looks at me with kind eyes, like she knows I’ve been around a while, though I still look to be in my late twenties. I guess that’s one perk to being a Reaper, you don’t age any further than how old you were when you died. I slide my coffee cup towards her, “Yes, that’d be great. Thank you.” She gives me a smile and pours some fresh coffee. I twist the pendant hanging from my neck. A scythe. The only way to tell I’m any different, and even then, only other Reapers would notice it. She gives me a cheeky wink before turning to walk away. Unfortunately, I’m already on a job, and I’m here for her. Of course, she doesn’t know that, and I can’t tell her.
They feel drawn to us when it’s almost their time. The waitress, Rosie, has been the first to walk up to me every morning for a week when I walk into this diner. She’s quite a bit older than me, with deep brown hair, and eyes to match. Her face lights up when I walk in, and I almost feel bad that it’s not what she thinks it is. Rosie, I’d be all for it if you were a few years younger, and if I wasn’t dead. Well, partially dead and trying to be good so I can escape this purgatory. It won’t be much longer though for Rosie; the file said it should happen in about an hour. Stroke, I think. At least she’ll see a familiar face in the moments after. I’ll offer her a kind word or two before I hold up the pendant to seal her soul.
Once the person has passed, I’m no longer visible to the world, only to them and only for a moment. Before they pass, I’m only visible in their vicinity. It makes for a quick exit and no questions about why some guy is standing so close to dying people. It also makes for a damn lonely existence, but I guess it’s easier not to get attached. I glance at the file again while sipping my coffee. Robert Mackinlay, 68, heart attack. Should be simple enough. I feel my pendant vibrate against my chest just as I hear the dishes crash in the kitchen. Time to go get Rosie.
It's only a few minutes before I’m walking out the door, completely invisible to everyone rushing to the poor woman’s side, totally oblivious that she’s already gone. I’m looking down at the file for the location of the next person, when I feel somebody pass through me. It happens all the time, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that, people just walking through me when I haven’t made it to the next job. It’s like walking into a warm mist. It definitely makes me miss being alive, and the warmth of it all. Looks like I only have a few blocks to go, Robert’s at a location not far from here. I like when I’m able to walk from job to job, it makes me feel like a normal person again, and gives me time to think.
The terrible things I did weren’t for nothing. I had a younger sister to look out for, and our mom disappeared when I was fourteen and she was seven. She wasn’t really there when she was around, so we didn’t miss her much. We bounced from foster home to foster home, and it only got harder the older we became. I fell into a bad crowd that I thought was a good crowd, and I stole, and robbed, and did what I thought I had to. But it was all so I could keep us safe and together. Then Elle got older, and she didn’t need me so much anymore. Turns out I needed her more than she needed me, and I just kept falling deeper into a lifestyle that hurt people.
It didn’t take long for me to wind up in a situation I couldn’t get myself out of. I was bound to rob the wrong person at some point, and it serves me right for doing it in the first place. Next thing I know, I’m drifting in the darkness. Little did I know, I was in a Reaper’s pendant. When the big guys couldn’t decide where to put me, I was plucked out and given a choice. Not much of a choice, but a chance to go somewhere other than hell when my time’s up. I watched from a distance as my little sister attended my funeral, all grown up. My heart ached, not because I died, but because I knew she would remember me on the edge of terrible.
It's been five years since I died, and I’m chipping away at who I used to be. I haven’t seen Elle since that day at my funeral, since we aren’t really supposed to just linger around like that. It’s not in the job description. I decide to look around as I’m walking and take in all the bustling faces around me. I see some souls here and there, wandering aimlessly. I also see a few fellow Reapers on their own routes. I’d wave, but we aren’t exactly friendly. You don’t make friends as a Reaper; you do your job and hope you get to move on. I was still glancing around when I felt a thump against my shoulder, a good solid shove.
I turn to see the startled face of the young woman who bumped into me, muttering how she’s sorry, and how I came out of nowhere. I tell her it’s fine and keep moving forward. I must be getting close to Robert if I’m becoming tangible. I guess I do kind of appear out of nowhere. I should try to be more cautious if I’m walking down the street, I probably get brownie points deducted when I bump into people. That’s not exactly redemption like behavior. I look up at my destination and sigh. Of course, it’s a hospital. I hate having to do jobs at the hospital, with everyone sick and dying it gets crowded in there. Not to mention it’s a full week before Robert is supposed to pass on. I feel bad thinking of it like that, since he’s probably somebody’s loved one, but I just really hate hospitals.
Nonetheless, I walk in and let my pendant guide the way. I will my clothes to take the form of scrubs before I make it to his room. I knock on the door frame and am greeted by the weak smile of his wife as she holds his sleeping hand. I let her know that I’m a nursing student tasked with checking on them every few hours, and she just nods. Simple enough. I turn to walk back down the hallway, only to run right into somebody, the familiar thump against my shoulder. I look down to apologize and am met with piercing hazel eyes of somebody also dressed in scrubs, real scrubs. She looks at me full of shock, confusion, and fear. She’s so grown up and all I want is to wrap her in a hug, but I just stand there frozen as she stares at me. I thought there were things in place to keep this from happening. I choke on her name. Elle.
“Tommy?” She squeaks.