Death Becomes Me
Death follows me.
Death consumes me.
It's part of me.
I hate this about myself. I can go days, weeks, even months without dying, but then something in the universe decides that I must die.
Then I die.
I can't do anything about it. I can't stop the cycle that shapes my life.
The only person that understands my struggle is my mother. I asked her why this happens to me and she said, "It resets life, my love."
This didn't answer my question--not exactly.
I've determined I'm a sort of reverse Grim Reaper. When I die, a new life is born. Then, I come back to life. I haven't figured out all the particulars. Not everyone affects me. There are millions of people on the planet. If I died to replace all the souls on earth, I'd never live. So what deaths makes the difference in whether I live or die?
Evil.
If I come in contact with evil--they die. I die. My death resets the balance.
Copyright © 2020 Beth Mikell
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