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A Result

It’s a job, like any other.
I am not paid.
I am not thanked.
But all the same, it must be done.

Most of my clients don’t resist. My average job is no more than a fading soul coddled in a white linen cocoon. I can reach down through their failing vessels and lift them from their burdens; and often we are gone before anyone finds them missing.

But those are only on the good days.

Too often my jobs are mangled wrecks, contorted between gnarled slabs of metal. They are more difficult to coax from their shells. They beg and plead with me while rescuers wrench their limp forms through shattered windshield panes. Sometimes I can persuade these clients, as medics stem the flow of blood from their lacerated chest. A chest which still rises and falls, just barely. But for the reluctant ones, force is often necessary. I grab them by their wrists and pull them through their flat-lined monitors. Yet I still think, as we leave the lightened vessel, it was too soon.

Today is a bad one. My job is stranded at the basin of his backyard pool. His tiny limbs struggle through the treated liquid, grabbing for the ledge from whence he fell. He tries to breathe the chlorinated water, gagging on it as it enters his lungs. His frantic eyes spot me, the only other person around, if you can consider me a person. I don’t blame you if you can’t. I give him my hand and he clings to it; I can feel him pleading for a way out, he won’t resist. The infant’s tiny limbs stop struggling as I lift him from this Hell. We are gone before his parents notice him missing.

It feels good, in a way, to relieve my clients of their suffering. Really, the only ones who should be pitied are the souls left behind, the ones who must grieve and cry and suffer. My jobs are well taken care of; they can rest peacefully, away from your pain-ridden world. I am not the bad guy. I am not the cause, I am the result. I’m simply a worker, a messenger, a taxi cab from life to death. I’m not asking for thanks; trust me, I’m not expecting any. I just thought you aught to know.



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This article has 8 comments. Post your own now!

SophiaCross said...
Jun. 28, 2011 at 9:49 am
Phenomenal.
 
BrightBurningCampeadorThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 24, 2011 at 12:16 am

COOOOOOOOOOOOOL! I want to know more!

 

 
communicativedistractions said...
Oct. 6, 2010 at 9:55 pm
this reminds me of that spirt guider from "The book theif" good job :)
 
soccercrazy said...
May 27, 2010 at 9:30 am

wow, this sounds... so ... cool!

its definitely a new way to think about death

 
M.A.C. said...
Nov. 23, 2009 at 7:40 pm
Interesting story. A bit less but a bit more detail and it's perfect.
 
Danie L. said...
Sept. 14, 2009 at 11:01 pm
I think this would be fun to see a book form from this beginning. however for now this length suits the story. I encourage you to keep on writing, Chrissy.
 
Lector S. said...
Sept. 8, 2009 at 6:36 pm
Finally. I spent something like a week looking for this story, I have been trying to save into my favorites. I absolutly LOVED this.
 
Cora S. said...
Sept. 5, 2009 at 4:08 pm
I loved this, my only regret was that it was not longer!
 
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