About the last day of a girl born with a fatle illness.
The sun sat upon the lazy waves, and twilight faded to darkness. The stars began to peep out from behind the purple clouds whispering to the children and happy couples playing in the sands “its time to go home.”
As they walked away from a sunless sky, none gave heed to a tiny figure sitting at the edge of the land, where the waves touched the frail grains of white sand. Her feet were being gently stroked by the by the soft blue waves, and the wind tilted to embrace the creature. Her pale blue eyes looked far beyond the horizon, to a place no eyes may see, but her own. They seemed far too serious and far too old, for her young, soft face.
She wore a white robe, like the ones they wear in hospitals, tied at the back with small bows, and on her feet, a pair of indoor slippers, that had become soaked to the bone. The dress was far too large for her, or perhaps her body was far too small for the dress, for her body was scrawny, almost sickly and skeleton-like, far too thin for a five year old child.
Dusk fell upon the cloudy sky, pushing the sun deeper into the ocean.Day light was fading, and darkness approached. Her body shook, as the sun sank lower. Her hair lay haggard upon her pale, cold face. She could taste the sickly sour taste in her mouth. Her mouth crinkled slightly, more out of annoyance rather than worry.
She tilted her head forward and vomited whatever it was that was needed to be dispelled. The sand turned red. The wave washed over the dirty rusty colored blood and dragged it out to sea.
She heard them call for her. It was her mother’s frantic voice in the distance. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I am going to die, whether confined to a hospital bed, or free to the mercy of the winds.” She muttered to the sea, “I choose to die free,” a bitter smile flashed around her lips, as the crimson liquid trickled down the edge of her lips.
“How do you know you will die, sweet child?” the waves whispered.
“Because I can hear the black horse hooves and the sound of his chariots nearing.” She listened for a moment, then straightened her back, and shook in fear of the the most inexplicable phenomenon that occurs to man. Death
“He’s here.” she whispered. The world around her went silent. Her mothers calls were drowned out by the sound of the rushing waves. She looked upon the horizon, at a sunless sky.
Time stopped for but a moment. For one moment, the waves remained still upon the sand, and the wind refused to blow, the stars hid behind the clouds, and but the moon loomed overhead, unafraid, when all the rest were coward, in the face of the one they call, the Reaper.
He stood before her,the dark, unknown figure, and reached for her hand. A small smile developed around the edges of the creature's lips. It held no malice or ill intent, but ironically, the love of a father. She placed her shaking hand in his own and allowed him to guide her gently upon the sea.
She saw her lifeless body, so pale. Deathly white, laying limp upon the shore. She saw her mother frantically run towards the frail empty shell , as all sun light vanished from the pitch black sky. Tears welled in her eyes, for her mother's pain. But he turned her face away from the land of the existing and sweetly whipped the tears running down her cheeks. The night seemed less sullen as the stars grew into millions, and the moon, loomed like a becon of strength, as they walked towards a land, far beyond the horizon.