The Value of Cotton

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"I never wanted to die," the young girl reminisced,

The man eyed her judgingly, trying to fully take in her mangled appearance. Her neck length chocolate hair was tangled and matted with sweat, her face was stained with blood infected tears, and her yellow bath robe was torn to shreds. This woman had been through more then many of the others he'd judged,

"And so how did you end up dying then?" he interrogated,

The man looked at his note pad and wrote down all of the girls words,

"I lost hope," she sobbed quietly,

The olive colored man scratched his bald hand in irritation. He slanted his eyebrows and looked over the desk to the wrecked girl who sat across from him,

"I've heard this story a million times," he explained, "Why should I let you continue, hm?" He raised a slanted brow at her mockingly,

The girl lowered her head, looking down at the hands folded in her lap, "I want my hope back," she looked at the man with pleading eyes,

The man let out a heavy sigh, “You see this suit?” the man pulled on the beige material of his business uniform, “This is made out of material you can find anywhere,” the man looked at her with little sympathy, “cotton,” he pronunciated the word with great emphasis, “Our world needs no more reincarnated “cotton” humans,”

He had compared her to cotton: an extremely easy to find, invaluable item, that people made clothes with.

The girl blinked at him and pouted sadly, “There’s nothing I can do?” she whispered sorrowfully/

“Well,” the man started, “What would you do?” he questioned, feigning stupidity,

“Anything!” she pleaded,

The man rubbed his hairless temples in thought,

“Well,” he chuckled, “Our world is boring with all of this cotton,” He scratched at his suit, “I think we need more gold,” he flaunted the golden ring on his left hand, “The thing is,” he arched his eyebrows in fake concern, “We only have good gold,” he cackled,

The girl stared at him with innocent brown eyes, and her pout grew to a confused frown, “I don’t understand,” she spoke innocently,

The man sighed at the girl. She looked as if she had been in her late teens, how did she not understand?

“I need someone to bring down a little,” he licked his lips tauntingly, “chaos,” he slurred, “This world needs a villain,” he looked to his notepad once again, “who is good at doing bad,” he rose his eye brows and smirked wide, “You in?”

The girl once again looked down to her hands that lay folded in her lap,

“I get my life back?” she confirmed,

The man nodded his head in agreement, “You just gotta do the job right,” his eyes burned with delight,

The girl gulped, and felt blessed that she was a good actress. She looked up and met the mans black eyes, “I’m in,” she flashed a goofy grin, “The new agent of chaos,” she nodded in recognition, and he nodded back to her encouragingly.

The chair screeched against the metal flooring as the girl pushed back her chair to stand. She left the room, with a smile plastered to her face. Only a select few were allowed through reincarnation, and now she was one of those few. Loosing morals and doing bad were a small cost to be able to be reborn.

Although, the thought that maybe her moral had been just put to the test never crossed her mind. There’s one thing to say about that girl though, reincarnation never took its toll upon her.





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