Have you ever thought of death personified? Some bony nonce in a black cloak, wielding a scythe? What if this actually was death? What if you could shape your death to be exactly how you wanted it, or if you did not want it at all you could stop it from being an inevitability? For 17 year-old Aili Vivian Wing, death is constant, everywhere. But her death is different...because she is so well acquainted with hers, death offers her a choice.
Prologue: C'est la mort.
Every death is special and unique, I knew now that mine was more so than anyone else's. Instead of yanking me away, Death was offering me his hand. As I was before I would have laughed obnoxiously in his face, I was like that. I would have chuckled darkly, jutted my chin up saying something like: 'You can't kill me, I'm Jesus.' or perhaps 'I can't die, I'm indestructible'. I actually believed those things for a while. When I was younger I recall being terrified at even the notion of Death. I wouldn't sleep in certain positions in bed because I could hear my heart beating and I was scared that I would hear it stop or I was afraid that I was mimicking the way a corpse would lie. But I was oblivious to actual death, I enjoyed funerals. My past fears and denials amounted to nothing this time. I embraced him. I took the given hand now and instead of running from him, we ran together. Instead of standing against him, I stood with him. We were the encapsulations of our situations. Life and Death. I was bright and flowing,my hair,eyes and skin looked a different shade in every light like it did in the more terrestrial places that I was so well aquainted with. He was how Death is for me. It-- he is surprising, dark, shocking. He never failed to shake me, he made me wail, weep silently. He could crush me. Yet despite all this, he made me better, improved me. My beautiful oblivion, my darling destroyer. The reliable catalyst. I knew Death like I knew being disappointed or hurt or relieved. There would be no more anything now, no days or passing of time no worries or needs or chances, for both of us. I was his. I was Death's girl.
A:N/ Phew, this just came out of nowhere one night so I really have no idea where it's going yet, I just felt like posting it. Now it's only a prologue so it may not go anywhere but i've had the "Death's Girl" title in my head for a while now. I could write the end right now probably but I have no idea how I could start it off, funny that. All feedback is appreciated.