Personal Narrative Fiction

Scott hadn’t seen the old man in quite a long time. He wasn’t upset by this. In fact it made him almost giddy. Every time the old bastard came around more people died, he thought. So, when people around Scott kept dying it occurred to him that he was coming for a visit. He wasn’t exactly sure why this time, but he knew the results wouldn’t be pleasant. He tried to ignore his obvious presence but he could tell people sensed it too. No one acted happy. They all just dragged themselves through each day. Babies didn’t giggle or cry; they just stared wide eyed, like they knew. It was odd to Scott how everyone could tell he was here without being able to see him. Scott sat at his dining room table, staring at the pale yellow wall in front of him.

He was sitting on the side of his bed as he tried to explain to his wife that he was leaving her. She didn’t understand why, and he couldn’t tell her why. Had he told her the truth she would have thought him insane. Instead he settled on telling her he was seeing someone else. She was so angry and upset. In order to protect her he couldn’t worry her either. Worse than his wife’s reaction, was the look on his five year old Daughter’s face when she said good-bye. That was something that Scott could never

“My old pal Death, how great to see you,” Scott dead-panned. “So I assume you’re wondering why I’ve come to visit you once again,” Death replied, ignoring Scott’s sarcasm. “No, I know exactly why you’re here. You finally come to finish me off, and here I am.” Scott found himself becoming angry with Death. If he was going to kill him just get it over with. “Not exactly Scott,” Death grinned mischievously as he spoke. Scott’s anxiety returned as a rolling boil. Threatening to consume him. Death watched Scott’s panic grow within him. “You see, I cannot kill what is already dead