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Death is my friend part 1
FORCES OF THE UNDERWORLD
(STORY ONE)
DEATH IS MY FRIEND
When I was ten my pet Labrador died. He was my best friend and I had the horrible misfortune of seeing him get hit by a speeding Land Rover. My dog was actually called Rover so it was a bitter lesson in the meaning of irony that day.
It had taken me a while to get used to Rover. He annoyed me when he was a puppy. He was full of energy and jumped up at me all the time. He was this black blur leaping up and down. He'd steal my inhaler out my pocket and my parents would tell me off like it was my fault. Then one day my dad left my mum for another woman and took Rover with him. That was a painful period in my life, hearing my mum cry in her bedroom every night for I don't know how long. When I was eventually allowed to visit my dad, Rover was much bigger and barked as he no longer recognised me. I was terrified. I used to sit on the sofa in a panic, my legs pulled up in front of me to protect my body. It was only when my dad's girlfriend; who turned out to be lovely; brought Rover over to sniff me, that we were able to start feeling comfortable around each other. Over time I noticed that Rover just liked to lay around the house minding his own business, perfectly content. Atleast when certain things didn't set him off. I began to warm to him and thought to myself: He's alright after all. One day he sat next to me and put his head on my knee. My dad said: "Why don't you give him a stroke, Tim?" Reluctantly I agreed and I nervously stroked the top of his head. He stayed there, enjoying it and I started to feel safer around him. Even when I came over and his territorial instincts made him bark at me, I just said to him: "What's up Rover? You forgotten me already?" Then he'd soon settle down. I asked my dad if I could join him when he walked the dog and I got to enjoy the company of both of them. We became so close Rover would spend hours with his head on my lap as I watched telly. It had taken a good while but we were finally firm freinds.
So when I saw poor Rover run over, I was devastated. And the bright red Land Rover that hit him never even stopped. To this day I am furious about that!
As I knelt over Rover, crying distraught tears, I watched as he sighed out his last breath. Then through my blurred vision I saw something materialise before me. It was a man in a black cloak. His shadowy features hidden by a hood. And in his skeletal hand he grasped a long staff with a strangely curved blade at the top. He hovered over Rovers corpse but paused suddenly to study my tear soaked face. I was paralyzed by fear and would have screamed, but then he spoke.
"Your pet will be going to a good place." His deep voice resonated, reassuringly from within his hood. My terror subsided and I noticed he seemed as surprised as I had been scared. For some reason I had the urge to open up to him."I'm going to miss him" I said to the strange apparition.
The mans bony hand reached forward and touched my chest. "He is always with you in your heart and here...." the icy finger touched my temple. "In your mind."
A warm feeling of gratitude surged through me and I asked: Will you be my friend?" I couldn't see his face to see his response but I thought I could sense him smile.
"That would be nice." The dark figure said. "What is your name little man?"
Now it was my turn to smile. "My name is Tim."
So I had met Death himself. They do say that when you are very young you can perceive things that adults can't. Supernatural things! Or maybe I was special. Maybe, somehow, I was the only one. I don't know. But from that day onward he was my new best friend. He would come and visit me on my loneliest days and remind me that Rover was in a happy place and that I was surrounded by living people who loved me. He told me stories of Rovers afterlife. How he ran through fields with other dogs, chasing sticks thrown by his new owner. How he got to chew on big tasty bones and was allowed to dig as many holes in the fields to bury bones as he wanted. And there were no painful high pitched noises or scary exploding fireworks to upset him. And he no longer had to see animals on the television that would set him off barking at the screen which in turn would make my dad blast him with a can that makes a hissing noise. Rover was in Heaven.
After hearing these wonderful stories and been given a renewed awareness of the loved ones around me I felt at peace. And over time Deaths visits became few and far between then stopped altogether. But that was okay because my life was good and he must have decided he was no longer needed.
Years later when I was in my mid-twenties life was still good. I'd met this girl called Jen who I'd had a real connection with. We'd talk for hours about everything and anything. She was interesting and interested. She appreciated me and the feeling was mutual. We...
(STORY ONE)
DEATH IS MY FRIEND
When I was ten my pet Labrador died. He was my best friend and I had the horrible misfortune of seeing him get hit by a speeding Land Rover. My dog was actually called Rover so it was a bitter lesson in the meaning of irony that day.
It had taken me a while to get used to Rover. He annoyed me when he was a puppy. He was full of energy and jumped up at me all the time. He was this black blur leaping up and down. He'd steal my inhaler out my pocket and my parents would tell me off like it was my fault. Then one day my dad left my mum for another woman and took Rover with him. That was a painful period in my life, hearing my mum cry in her bedroom every night for I don't know how long. When I was eventually allowed to visit my dad, Rover was much bigger and barked as he no longer recognised me. I was terrified. I used to sit on the sofa in a panic, my legs pulled up in front of me to protect my body. It was only when my dad's girlfriend; who turned out to be lovely; brought Rover over to sniff me, that we were able to start feeling comfortable around each other. Over time I noticed that Rover just liked to lay around the house minding his own business, perfectly content. Atleast when certain things didn't set him off. I began to warm to him and thought to myself: He's alright after all. One day he sat next to me and put his head on my knee. My dad said: "Why don't you give him a stroke, Tim?" Reluctantly I agreed and I nervously stroked the top of his head. He stayed there, enjoying it and I started to feel safer around him. Even when I came over and his territorial instincts made him bark at me, I just said to him: "What's up Rover? You forgotten me already?" Then he'd soon settle down. I asked my dad if I could join him when he walked the dog and I got to enjoy the company of both of them. We became so close Rover would spend hours with his head on my lap as I watched telly. It had taken a good while but we were finally firm freinds.
So when I saw poor Rover run over, I was devastated. And the bright red Land Rover that hit him never even stopped. To this day I am furious about that!
As I knelt over Rover, crying distraught tears, I watched as he sighed out his last breath. Then through my blurred vision I saw something materialise before me. It was a man in a black cloak. His shadowy features hidden by a hood. And in his skeletal hand he grasped a long staff with a strangely curved blade at the top. He hovered over Rovers corpse but paused suddenly to study my tear soaked face. I was paralyzed by fear and would have screamed, but then he spoke.
"Your pet will be going to a good place." His deep voice resonated, reassuringly from within his hood. My terror subsided and I noticed he seemed as surprised as I had been scared. For some reason I had the urge to open up to him."I'm going to miss him" I said to the strange apparition.
The mans bony hand reached forward and touched my chest. "He is always with you in your heart and here...." the icy finger touched my temple. "In your mind."
A warm feeling of gratitude surged through me and I asked: Will you be my friend?" I couldn't see his face to see his response but I thought I could sense him smile.
"That would be nice." The dark figure said. "What is your name little man?"
Now it was my turn to smile. "My name is Tim."
So I had met Death himself. They do say that when you are very young you can perceive things that adults can't. Supernatural things! Or maybe I was special. Maybe, somehow, I was the only one. I don't know. But from that day onward he was my new best friend. He would come and visit me on my loneliest days and remind me that Rover was in a happy place and that I was surrounded by living people who loved me. He told me stories of Rovers afterlife. How he ran through fields with other dogs, chasing sticks thrown by his new owner. How he got to chew on big tasty bones and was allowed to dig as many holes in the fields to bury bones as he wanted. And there were no painful high pitched noises or scary exploding fireworks to upset him. And he no longer had to see animals on the television that would set him off barking at the screen which in turn would make my dad blast him with a can that makes a hissing noise. Rover was in Heaven.
After hearing these wonderful stories and been given a renewed awareness of the loved ones around me I felt at peace. And over time Deaths visits became few and far between then stopped altogether. But that was okay because my life was good and he must have decided he was no longer needed.
Years later when I was in my mid-twenties life was still good. I'd met this girl called Jen who I'd had a real connection with. We'd talk for hours about everything and anything. She was interesting and interested. She appreciated me and the feeling was mutual. We...
