TRIGGER WARNING: Death, Loss, Stillbirth, Miscarriage. These are major triggers for some. If reading about them is an issue for you, PLEASE STOP HERE. I had this prompt, it lead to an idea, it is a way of healing from my own loss, but is by no means a play by play of my own and this idea is fantasy in every sense of the word.
Thank you. Being a grim reaper is not for everyone. By far, the least chosen profession for your afterlife. Even if you choose to do it, you are still tested. Gauged. Vetted. If you are even chosen to begin the four-year program, it doesn’t mean you will get to be a reaper. Two-thirds of the first year class will drop out before the year is done, never getting to go to perform their first pickup.
To make it to the point of graduation as a minor reaper is a feat of pure talent and indurance. Simple reapers get to go pick up those who pass due to old age, those that pass due to an uncomplicated accident, those who are not a true tragedy, but pass from the land of the living none the less. Simple reapers usually are not long term employees, as after around 80 years, they tend to retire and go on to chose to reincarnate.
Then there are those of us that chose to really stretch our limits and go for a specialty. Each specialty has a different timeline to finish, some as little as an additional two years. Others, several years. Unnatural death was a short additional step, but as time has made the need rise. Job security for them, horrible consequences around the land of the living. Criminals getting karma kicking them in the teeth? Highly sought after, additional six years of training, competitive specialty. I feel like you know why.
Me? I am an elite. Twelve years of additional training. Seventeen program elimination rounds in that time. Over eight thousand souls started the reaper program when I did. Two thousand of them made it to second year. Every year there where less. Specialists choices where made and we said our goodbyes and moved on in our groups. Watching each class complete their training and leave was a proud moment, but bitter. My specialty class was the largest ever recorded when the three of us crossed that stage.
We joined the force together, and for the first couple years, the team flowed well. It didn’t last long and by year five together, the mental strain made one leave, the other change specialty. The department has become a true team since then. Working flawlessly together for the last fifteen years.
Each case we were handed means months of research, weeks of prep, weekly therapy, and daily jokes across the room. Therapy? Not only needed, but mandated. We were one of 3 specialties to do so. Mirabella ran our department with an iron fist when it came to our mental health. That lady was maybe five feet if she decided to wear heels, but she would tear down the tallest mountain if it spoke bad about her team. She was more than capable of keeping each and every one of us in line with a stern look. Mirabella was an older lady when she left the land of the living, unlike myself who was barely twenty. Mirabella gave off that ‘grandma who will stab you in the eye with her knitting needles’ vibes.
Mental health was very important to Mirabella. She has made it a point to never have another reaper have a repeat of what she sees as her one major failure. Back when she ran the violent death division, Reaper Jack had a break. He stole a horse, a cloak, and a pumpkin. Sleepy Hollow never saw it coming. Ever since, the weekly check-in’s for that division, our’s and Criminal karma all follow the mental health plan.
I look down at the case file on my desk. Pages of research. Pictures, tidbits of stories. The last piece will be here today by lunch. Pickup location. They always wait till last minute for that information as not only is it one of the few things that can change in the situation, but we are not supposed to be able to show up early and change fate.
The goal of all of this work? One soul. Every soul is important to me. Each special in their own way. I made sure my charge knew they were MINE.
I worked for hours. I need to have all the information and a summary ready to go in an easy to read, easy to understand format for hand off. Not easy when the guardians are to distracted by the soul to care if they got the needed details correct. Getting it wrong means a soul lost. I refuse to have one of mine go missing. I can tell you who they are, where in the afterlife they are currently or if they have moved on to reincarnation, who their mother and father are, any siblings they have, and the color of their eyes.
That is what truly sticks with me. Their eyes. My special gift to to be able to get the souls to show me their true eye color. Every reaper is given a gift. Daniel, who’s desk is to my left, is able to make dancing stars appear for the souls. It delights them and makes traveling from the land of the living easier.
I needed to stretch, my back cracking as I reached my hands to the ceiling. The snaps and pops echoing around the office. Getting muscles to loosen is hard on a normal day, more so when your body is long gone from the living world. I felt like I stretched all the way from my desk back to my grave. As I stretched, the messenger came around the corner with that last bit of information for my case file. Along with the location, I would find out the official time of pick-up. Six twenty-nine in the evening. Looking around it was only two, meaning I had time to finish up some last minute things before needing to leave.
My wrist jingled as I reached across my desk for my phone. Dialing made the sound louder than it should have been, at least for the quiet office space. “Martin’s Jewlers, this is Patty” a chipper voice came across the line. I swear, that woman has more energy in her old age than most have in their pinky toe. She should have retired a good ten years ago, but swears that she lives for the smiles of those she sells too.
“Patty, my sweet dear, It’s Chelsey. I am in need of a new charm. Do you have an appointment available tomorrow?” I say into the phone, knowing that Patty doesn’t need appointments to work with you, but it makes her feel important. Ever since the day that I met her, I have made it a point to not only do all my charm shopping with her, but to just check in and see how she is doing. Someday she will know that she was the one who started my collection. She was at my first pick-up, even if she didn’t know I was there. It’s because of her that I keep tabs on those my job has effected.
We go on to not only setup the appointment but catch-up with what she has been up to the last few months. That she is going to be a great grandma again has her voice fast paced and excited. She is infectious with her glee. I almost feel sorry to hang up the phone a full thirty minutes later, knowing that we will talk for hours when I go to pick out my next charm tomorrow. Patty never fails to have amazing insight to pick the perfect one to add to the collection.
“How many charms fit on a bracelet Chelsey?” I hear from the desk to my left. Daniel asks with a smirk.
“You ask every time Daniel. Ten.” I reply. Ten markers for ten souls. My memory marker of how they touched the world.
“How many are on the wall now?” He continues the conversation.
I chuckle to myself. We have the same talk every time I make my shoping appointment. “Nine, but this one will complete this bracelet, so it will be ten. I get to pick out a new starter this time. What do you think? Rose gold or silver?” I mentally check out of the conversation as soon as I ask. I already know what I am gonna get, but I haven’t said anything to anyone. There is a twisted mixed metal band that caught my eye not long ago. I thought it would be a perfect fit to my next hundred souls. A celebration to give myself.
One hundred souls. My collection grows slowly, but steadily. Each little charm, a jewel in my collection. Mine. I lean back in my chair. Rest is important before going on a collection. The clock will move to fast from this point until I have to leave. The office chair may not be the most comfortable place to rest, but it will fit the bill for the time being and after a few short hours, Mirabella walks by, dropping off my needed travel supplies.
“Good travels dear. I look forward to seeing your new charm when you get back” She says with a smile. I gratefully take the supplies and spell them into reaper space. A nice perk of the job if you ask me. A little pocket to put needed items no matter the size, that you can grab from when the time is right. Don’t tell Mirabella, but it keeps coffee hot for HOURS…
With a snap of my fingers, I appear in a new space. One that while it has changed since I was last here, is more familiar that I like. Memories come flooding back to me and it takes everything in me to not to spiral into my own head. I look at the clock. Six. I have twenty-nine minutes. Time enough to draw on my training to calm my racing heart and slow my breathing. I refuse to let my emotions rule me. The smells of the hospital invade my nose. The cleaners they use has never changed in all the years since I was last here. The rooms have changed color, but they are still the same rooms. Rooms that provided no comfort to me. Rooms that felt impersonal when I was left all alone.
My life ended here. I can vividly remember every moment. If only my body had realized it. Instead, it got the memo months later. My time was lonely. I was young. Nineteen years old, just getting out into the world. Not having had time for the world to have broken me yet. Then I found a man I thought would be forever… Instead, he was until the pants came off. We dated for almost six months before we hooked up. Once was enough for him, even if I wasn’t. However, that one time created my downfall. I found out I was pregnant and he was so far gone from my life, there was no finding him. I was four months along when a drunk driver took what support system I had when they took both my parents. I did everything I could to be strong for the life growing inside of me…. Until I wasn’t strong enough and the medical issues began. I spent month seven in a hospital room.
Room five. The room that now was right in front of me. The room where my body gave out and I got my first sighting of a reaper. My child, gone. No matter how I begged, that reaper would not return. Would not take me with him. Held no compassion or caring toward me. The reaper who goes unnamed to this day as I am not allowed to locate my own file. I wished I could find him. Ask him why. Why he decided that he could not only show his face as he took my child’s soul, but then to bring them straight to reincarnation and steal my chance to find them when I finally passed a short eight months later. The reaper who took everything from me.
I shook my head free of the memories. I have a job. I will do better than what I have experienced. I tell myself every time, this is why I do what I do. So no mother has to break because a reaper didn’t care. My charges are special. Never knowing the outside. They get no chance to take a breath. Fate chose them to leave to early. Sometimes, parents don’t know they are there. I do. I remember them, even if no one else does. I make sure that the parents feel a wash of compassion in my wake. I chose this specialty.
If a better reaper had attended me, attended my child…. No. I would never change my path. It was hard. It hurt. It made me the reaper I am. If my child’s reaper had been different, I would not have my ninety-nine souls. MY ninety-nine charms. I can name every soul that is represented. I will always know. Every. Single. One. Not only their names, but the day I collected them, the true color of their eyes. The names of their mother. Their father. I. Know. Everything.
I step into the room, clearing the last of the memories in my head in order to be present in the moment. I take my place at the side of the room, knowing the flurry of activity that will be coming. They can’t see me, but that doesn’t mean I need to be in the way. I look around and see one loan light above the computer. In the darkened room, a man rubs the back of a woman who is curled around her abdomen as a contraction starts to ease. A slow steady whooshing sound of a internal baby heartbeat monitor is the only sound in the room.
The man looks up at the monitor, just as the speed of the monitor sounds starts to slow. I follow his gaze to the machine. His eyes widen as he watches the rate drop. Travis says nothing, just reaches out and pushes the nurse call button.
Travis… That is the name in the file. Husband to Jenny. Father of Richard and Mera, according to the family notes. A good father. One who loves his wife with everything he is, teaches his son to respect those that deserve it, how to hunt with care and only take what he needs. A father who, from what I saw in my reading, leans heavily on a dream he has, of walking his daughter down the isle at her wedding.
The type of person that notices the little things. Things like a heartbeat slowing. How contractions are further apart than they were. The kind of person who sees all, and does what he can to keep people from worrying. Good qualities for a father.
The nurse breezes past me as she comes in the room. She doesn’t speak, just takes in the room. She sees Travis looking at the monitor and quickens to the computer. A sense of urgency in her typing and as she reaches to her walkie on her hip to speak something I don’t hear.
“Jenny, my sweet lady, things are going to get a little rushed okay? We need to turn on the lights and a lot of people are going to meet you, really quickly. Baby is not doing well and we can’t wait it out any longer. I know it is scary, but I am not going to leave you and I am going to make sure you know what is going on, every step of the way okay?”
Jenny does not respond as another contraction takes over her body. Tears stream down her cheeks but she makes no effort to wipe them away. The monitors on her belly are adjusted and a heavy feeling takes over the room. “Something feels really, really wrong” Jenny finally lets out as the contraction eases.
A doctor and three nurses join the room. My spot is almost untouched as everyone is around the bed and the flurry of medical assistance is put into place. I reach into the reaper space to begin pulling out my traveling supplies. A knitted, soft, pink hat. A blanket of pink sunset clouds made by the guardians. A woven, Moses style basket with a soft pad inside. I set down the basket, laying the blanket on top. The hat in my hand, ready for use.
I close my eyes and take a cleansing breath. Holding out my arms, knowing the small weight that will soon fill the space. I feel the magic, even before I hear the monitor go silent. A small, bright glow rises from the flurry of action on the bed and floats softly to my arms, forming into the delicate features of a child.
“Hello little one.” I say as I begin to place the pink hat on her head. I then reach down an pick up the blanket, softly wrapping the small body in it’s warmth. The last rays of warms from the sun, expertly woven into the material. As the warmth surrounds her, her eyes crack open. Deep gray greets me. “Oh darling, you are a blessing, even if they don’t know it yet.” I let my magic roll over the child and watch as her eyes change color. I love seeing what color they are supposed to be if they were able to stay with their parents. A glossy golden hue. Honey, but streaked with chocolate. So very unique for eyes. Almost gemstones in the look.
I lean to the wall and watch the room as the activity crests and wanes. In time, tears flow, screams of emotion ring out, and then…. Silence falls.
“I am going to give you some time. The cleanup and the room can wait. Take this time to be with her. I won’t be far if you need me.” The nurse hangs her head and moves to the door. The doctor is waiting outside the room. The finality of the situation apparent. While the parents can’t hear, I can, as the two speak at length about what occurred. The little heart was misformed and not able to handle the stress of delivery. They speak with kindness and respect in regards to Travis and Jenny. I know they are effected by the loss, but it is not life changing like it is for these parents.
“Alright little one, now it is our turn.” I whisper as I move toward the bed. I don’t look down at the bundle they weep over, wrapped with love and longing. I speak out loud, knowing that only this child can hear me, but the spell holds more power when spoken. The recipients able to feel the power, even if they can’t hear it.
“Loss is not something you can get over. It will always be a part of you. Loss is hard. Loss is life changing. Loss is something no one ever wants to face. Lean on each other to find your strength. You won’t find it today. You won’t find it tomorrow, but someday it will be there when you least expect it. Strength to pick up the pieces. Choose to put yourselves back together and fill your cracks with gold.” My magic rolls out from my lips, filling each word with comfort and warmth. I reach out a hand and place a drop of pink light on Jenny’s head. I plant a picture in her mind. A small glimps of the spirit with honey and chocolate eyes and dimpled cheeks. Dimples she would not be able to see otherwise.
“Time doesn’t heal a wound.” I continue with my magic. “You grown and the wound is smaller in comparison. It still hurts, but not in the life changing way it does now. Kindness goes a long way. Both for each other, and your yourself. Grant yourselves grace to grieve.” I look to Travis and realize that the dream he holds so dear isn’t there… I can see now, it is my job to place it. I reach out and place a drop of pink light at his forehead. Giving him warmth and the vision that his file says is so important to him. A vision of walking a golden eyed woman in a white dress down a carpeted path covered in flowers. A vision of what could have been.
A little hand moves and catches my attention. The little one speaks in my mind, soul to soul since the body can’t make the sound. “Please” say the soft voice. I raise her up to the crying face of her mother, and the small hand reaches out to touch. “She is as pretty as she sounded.” If a reaper needed to breathe, I could not have found a breath to take. Each child is so pure and magical. Absolutely memorable in every way. Jenny reaches up and touches her cheek, her hand passing into the spirit as if they could touch.
“Mera.” Jenny and I speak in unison. The magic of the first time the name is spoken pulling the word from both our lips.
“Mera.” Travis repeats reverently.
I cradle Mera to my chest, but turn her to see as we fade from the room. I look down and this little soul and say “Don’t worry Mera, you are going to know all about them. I will make sure that you learn names, and talents, and all the stories we can find about them. Then, if you like, in a couple years you can help pick the perfect soul to send to join them. Once they are ready again of course.” I smile at Mera.
“They won’t forget me will they?” She says, her little voice laced with worry.
“No child. They will think of you every day. They will do amazing things with your memory in their hears and your name on their lips.” Thinking about the file, they go forward to create a scholarship program to help families of stillborns to find therapists and help they need to put their lives back together. Mera’s Miracles.
“Did you know, they wanted a boy at first? They changed their minds once they found out I wasn’t one. Can I pick a boy to be with them?” This child. She is gonna talk my ear off between here and drop off and I am going to love every minute of it.
“If that is what you think is best, I am sure it can be figured out.” I already knew it would be, but that was information I am not free to share. The minds of spirits are always more aware and knowledgeable than the body they are pulled from. Spirits of children have mostly formed minds and thoughts. Something that is lost when they are born and they have to re-learn with time. The souls I take with me are child-like, but able to hold full conversations and emotions of what most would say is closer to an eight to ten year old child.
“I already have a name for my little brother. They would be my little brother right? They would get to get big, even if I don’t, but they would be my little brother right? Anyway, Mommy and Daddy said the name a lot. Like it was special or something. And he is going to have to like hunting, cause Daddy wanted to teach me to hunt. Not with guns. He says they are to loud. I don’t know what a gun is, but if Daddy doesn’t like it, then I don’t.” She continued to rample as we traveled the spirit way rainbow path. “He said bows are better. They are not as loud and they leave less mess behind in nature. We have to protect nature. That is what he said. Daddy wanted me to know everything about how we were nature and we needed to make sure that we took care of ourselves and the land we were going to hunt on.” Her little eyes grew wide and looked up at me. “Wait! If we hunt what is in nature, how does that help take care of it?”
“Well, while I could tell you all about it, I think I am going to let you learn that as you learn about your Daddy. He had a plan of how he would teach you, and so the guardians will make sure that you learn the way that you family wanted you to.” I say, not because I didn’t want her to know, but more because I could see the doorway to the guardians ahead of us and knew that we would have to part for now. I nodded to the guardians as he stepped through the doorway to greet us.
“Case twenty-seven, fifty-one, twelve. Glad you could make it saf—” I shook my head to stop the guardian before me.
“Mera. Her name is Mera. You know this is not a case to us in the Breathless Division. Use her name.” I say, the anger building in my voice as I spoke.
“You are correct Reaper Chelsey. My appologies. It won’t happen again. Mera, I am glad you made it. I am to take you to settle in and let you rest. Chelsey, is she set to follow the normal plans from here?” He says as he reaches out to me.
“Yes please. Daily visits to watch over her parents. Reach out to see if any of her family is still in this afterlife. If they are, they get to teach her the family history. I see a future guardian in this one. Treat her right.” I say, my anger cooling. I’m confident that this little one will soon find her place in the afterlife, her caring for others first, already apparent. Guardians are always that way. When they choose a person to guide in the land of the living, they make sure they are happy. “Mera, I will be by to check in after you are settled. Okay?” I hate leaving them to settle in but it is part of the plan.
“Richard” I hear, so softly I almost miss it.
“What is that little one?” I ask.
“They name I want for a little brother. I wanna find him and name him Richard. Daddy said the name and I like it. It’s special.” She says, almost sadly.
A deep toned male voice laughs behind us, making me jump. “That, my dear Mera, is MY name. It will please your grandma to no end that you want a brother named after me! Let’s go find her together, shall we?” Arms reach around me as I turn to find an older male, a well known guardian. “You can cancel the plan to find family, they are found. You can push aside this one’s settling in and you can cancel her room. She is coming home with me. I will take over my grandchild’s teaching. You are free to go Charles.” He says dismissively to the guardian in the doorway. As he pushes past the dumfounded guardian, he tickles the bundle and a tiny giggle rings out like bells. “Now. On to find grandma! Belle dear! Where ARE you?” He hollers out in a sing-song voice, heading down the hallway.
Both the guardian and I are absolutely struck dumb by the loss of our charge. Neither knowing if we are free to go, or if we need to stay. At least I know of Richard. While not the leader of the child guardians, he is upper leadership. So, my soul is not lost. I will be able to keep checking on her, to know that she is safe.
The next day, as I stand before the jewelery counter, having a long catch-up conversation with Patty, it strikes me how different she would be if I was not the reaper she was assigned the day she lost her son. I was the first reaper to start using our magic to leave compassion with each parent. Now it is common practice, even on the lesser specialties. Patty was broken and lost. The little compassion I gave that day, gave her the strength to fight through the infection that wracked her body and brought her son to us. She now is strong and shows love to each and every person she meets. She has had a good, long life, one that I refuse to look into her file to find the ending of.
I have gotten my twisted metal starter band on my wrist. The mixing of the metals my celebration of the twineing of life and death. I look down at the two charms in front of me that I am debating between. The first, a simple star. It made me feel that Mera’s place was there. Among the best of us. With more concern about finding her perfect brother to be with her daddy than what she would miss out on. The other, a tiny water drop shape with a golden yellow stone. Not quite the right shade for her eyes, but it was the closest I was seeing to what I saw when I closed my eyes and pictured her.
“Chelsey. Congrats on your one hundredth delivery! I figured you would take this day of PTO after so you could celebrate.” My boss was in the land of the living, standing behind me, and I totally didn’t hear her walking up behind me. “One hundred deliveries. Big day for us back at the company.” It is hard to be in the land of the living and not let anyone know what we really are. We are one of the few afterlives who can do this, we don’t wanna mess that up. The coffee shop on 3rd avenue is to good for me to let on who I really am.
“Boss! I was not expecting a check-in until tomorrow. What are you doing here?” I gasped. Now I’m worried something is wrong. She doesn’t normally seek anyone out after deliveries unless there was a mistake.
“Oh, nothing like that dear! Calm down. I just knew that the location of your last pickup would strike a nerve and wanted to check on you.” She went to the counter beside me and looked down at the charms.
Not wanting to let on how much it really had, I put on a solid face and took a breath. “Little Mera was so excited that it barely registered where I was. My training kicked in and I blocked out the rest.” I didn’t wanna let her know that I was going to need that therapy session that was scheduled. The visions of my own time in that room popped up every time I closed my eyes.
“You have always been one of my top people. Never letting anything shake you on the job. I think…. I think I am coming to think of you as a daughter. Which reminds me.” She taps the glass on the counter to point to something for Patty to retrive. “Your latest delivery. It sure is causing waves among the staff. Ha Ha. Don’t worry though, we just want you to stop by and check on it…. Say, next week? The address will be on your desk when you come in tomorrow. Be there at six and be hungry. They are serving Sunday diner.” She says as she looks over the box that Patty hands her from under the glass. “This is the one dear. I am off now to see my husband. Apparently he took on a solo job. Something he hasn’t done in years!” Smiling, she pushed the box my way.
“Richard was never one to sit around and be a bump on a long. With a baby around, I think we may have some adventures ahead of us. To think…. A baby named after me. I never thought I would see the day.”
I looked out the window of the store to see Richard, bundle of blankets and dimples in one arm, waving to us to come join him. Smiling at his wife. His Belle. Mirabella walked away to the door and out to her husband who wrapped his open arm around her and leaned in for a kiss.
“All ready dear?” Patty says. She points to the box in my hand. “They lady that just left, the cashier said she paid her before she came over. It’s paid for dear.” I looked down at the charm, a rose gold piece in the shape of a hunters bow, the tip of the arrow was a crystal. Tigers eye. A mix of honey and chocolate. Just like Mera’s eyes. Perfect.
Sunday…. Dinner…. Just like a daughter… As all the information flooded my brain it hit me. Mirabelle knew who I was picking up. She chose me to bring in her grandchild. She is inviting me to Sunday diner and sees me as her daughter. She knows that I hold a place for every soul I take. They are mine. They are part of me. Mera is part of me. My little family.
Mera, looks like you just got yourself an aunt.
This post was due to the following prompt:
“She added a charm to her bracelet for every life she took.”
I hope you enjoyed. I hope I didn’t trigger you to much, and I hope you will still want to read other things written by our little group.
Thanks. - Bran
