I Groan As The Well-meaning Hero Handcuffs Me. For The Third Time This Week.

The prophetess gave me a look. “That’s disgusting.”

I shrugged, unable to keep the smug grin off my face. “But it worked. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. And, I got a date!”

She groaned. “Priorities, Isabel, priorities!”

I frowned. “I’m sorry, was “get Isabel a man” not number one?”

“No!”

I laugh. “Teasing, Anna! Chill out. He’s cute!”

Anna groaned again. “Please, just call it off. Fight him, win, everything is solved.”

She rubbed her temples as I shook my head apologetically. 

“Sorry,” I said. I really was a bit sorry. I liked Anna. Truthfully, I had gone to the meeting place with every intention of ending everything. But he was just so sweet, and when we started talking, we couldn’t stop. Masks came off, and one thing led to another and then we were kissing. 

When I relayed the details of the meeting to Anna, she could only shake her head.

“I hope you’re happy,” she grumbled. “Messing with prophecies and fate. It’s a nasty business, and you never know how it’ll turn out.”

I didn’t respond, knowing my words would only hurt. I turned and left the room, hiding my face.

Anna was my best friend, and I didn’t want her to see the hurt she had caused me. 

I would go on my date tonight with the former villain, and hopefully Anna would still be here when I got back. 

No one, not even my best friend, could tell me what to do.

"I said you were destined to lock fists with the villain! Not lips!" "Well it worked, didn't it?"

I wasted no time.

My children might come back. They would most likely not find me. On that off chance that they would return, I grabbed a pad of paper and started writing.

"To Anna, my oldest,

You are the baby that made me a mom. I am so grateful for you and all the help you have given me. Stay strong for me. Love your brother and sister, help them through if you can. You can be the glue that holds us together, just like you have done for years.

I am so proud of you."

"To Blake, my only son,

Ever since your father died, I have so loved seeing you step into his role as 'man' of the house, without being asked. Even though it was not an ideal situation, you made the most of it; I'm proud of you.

I love you, my son."

"To Callie, my youngest"

I know we have not had very many years together. Only 5, compared to your sister's 12 and your brother's 10. But I love you just as much as I love them. You have brought the laughter and joy into this house from day one.

Keep smiling, even when it's hard."

I signed each letter, adding a few things here and there. I placed them in envelopes with their names and carefully arranged them on the kitchen table, where they could not be missed.

I added a note alongside them, asking for anyone who might find them to either leave them, or help them reach my children.

And then all I could do was wait.

It was 3 days before the end came for her.

It was 7 months before anyone entered the house again. They took some food and clothing, and left the notes.

It was 2 years before one of the kids returned. Callie took her letter and left without looking back.

It was 3 more years before Blake returned. He looked at his letter...swept it into a trash can without reading it.

It was only 1 more year before Anna finally walked into her childhood home, accompanied by her husband. She held a hand to her swollen belly as she looked around, spotting her note on the table. She picked it up and read it, tears streaming down her face, her husband holding her tightly.

Anna spotted Blake's letter in the trash and picked it up. She read his too, wishing she could see her sister and brother again. She hadn't missed her mom in 6 years. They weren't allowed to.

But there was no stopping it now. Anna wept into her husband's shoulder, knowing the truth.

She would never see her mother again. She would never see her siblings again. Her brother and sister had both deserted her, even as she tried to keep them together. She would probably never see them again either.

And her mother had died thinking Anna would keep their family together.

She had failed.

All children under the age of 13 vanishes with only a note left behind that says “Due to humans not caring about the future of their young, all children have been relocated. If you truly love (Name), you will not intervene as we restart your race. -Signed ‘The Protectors’”

“Hey!” I cry out in shock. Jason obviously can’t hear me, up on the platform through the screaming crowds, as he kisses Ella soundly on the lips.

When they pull apart, Ella’s face is red. They turn to the crowd and bow proudly.

I am in shock. There are tears pouring down my face, but I can’t feel them. I stare numbly at the stage. I pinch my arm to make sure I’m awake. 

It’s not a nightmare. It’s real.

The tall guy next to me looks over and frowns. He shouts over the noise, “Hey man, are you okay?”

I can only shake my head, eyes locked on the stage where Jason and Ella are holding hands and staring at each other as they answer questions from the reporters.

The man takes my arm, leading me onto a side street a few blocks away, where the noise is significantly reduced. 

“What happened?” he asks, offering me a bottle of water. 

“Tha-that’s my girlfriend,” I say shakily. 

His eyes go wide. 

“And,” I continue, gulping the water. “My best friend Jason. We’ve known each other since we were six! And Ella…”

I can feel the tears now, hot tears falling down my face as I start to sob. 

The man sighs deeply. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough. I’m George, by the way.”

He offers his hand to shake, and I accept it with a shaky laugh. 

“Dylan.”

I wipe my eyes roughly, trying to stop the tears. Now that I’m a bit less shocked, I’m angry. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asks carefully. 

My hands clench into fists. “We’ve been dating for three years! I was going to…”

My voice trails off and I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small box. I thrust it at George angrily, putting my head in my hands. 

George doesn’t have to open it to know that the box contains a ring.

“I was going to ask tonight,” I whisper. 

He tries to hand the box back. “Call her. Or him. Maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

I know deep down that he’s wrong, but I can’t ignore the brief hope that flares up in my chest at the possibility. 

I fumble my phone out of my pocket and desperately press Ella’s name, putting it on speaker. 

George and I listen to it ring several times before she picks up.

“Hey, baby!” Her voice is breathless. “I’m kinda busy, can I call you back?”

I close my eyes, hearing the crowd in the background. “Where are you, Ella? I was going to surprise you at work.”

This was true. That had been my pan before the whole fiasco happened and the streets were blocked.

“Oh, you know,” she says. “Just…in the back, working on something.”

“Sweetheart,” I say quietly. “Have you seen or talked to Jason today? He was supposed to meet me for lunch, but he never showed up.”

“Jason?” Ella’s voice jumps up an almost imperceptible note. “No, I haven’t seen Jason today! Listen, I’ll call you back in a few hours, baby. I’m really busy right now, you can stop by then, okay?”

George shakes his head slowly, eyes angry for me, a bit sad.

I can’t stop the tremble in my voice as I say, “Never mind, Ella. I saw you. It’s over between us. You can tell Jason the same thing from me. I don’t ever want to talk to you ever again.”

I stare at the phone in front of me as Ella gasps and sputters, protesting. I can’t bring myself to hang up.

So George leans over and does it for me, turning my phone off and handing it back to me.

“I, uh, left my bag back there,” I mumble, pointing back to where we had come from, where the crowds were still screaming. 

George nods. “Look, I gotta get back to work, but I put my number in your phone. If you wanna catch up later, talk, get coffee, whatever, just text me.”

I nod, with a small smile. “Thanks, man.”

I push my way back through the crowds, miraculously finding my things right where I had left them. Ella and Jason are still on the platform, though now they look considerably less happy.

But their hands are still tangled together between them. 

Ella scans the crowd. Eventually, her eyes find mine. She nudges Jason and they both lock eyes with me, clearly pleading with me to talk to them.

I find it funny that in doing this, they ignore the reporter currently talking to them. He looks confused, trying to see who they are looking at.

I shake my head and turn around, pushing my way out of the crowd.

I hope my disgust was clear on my face.

You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.

*oops, my hand slipped. it's really long*

“Uhhh…” 

I feel like I should probably be mad or something, but all I am is thoroughly confused. My family is in the same room as Josie’s and no one is yelling or threatening anyone.

Josie throws herself on the bed, sobbing. Taken aback, I put my arms around her, uncomfortable, but unwilling to not try to comfort her.

My father walks over to the bed and puts a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Glad to see you awake, son.”

I nod quietly as my mother walks over as well, tears in her eyes.

“The doctors said it would be a miracle if you woke up,” she whimpered, lifting a tissue to dab her eyes. “Josie told us everything.”

Josie sits up a little and I can see her face, tear-stained. To most of the room, I’m sure she looks like she’s relieved to see me awake, but I can see something else underneath that. Fear?

What did she tell them?

Josie’s older sister helps their dad to his feet, and he comes over as well, Josie scooting backwards and off the bed to make room for him. The man had scared me since I was a child, and not much had changed in the 15 years since then. 

He stares into my eyes intensely. “It was you?”

Everyone in the room seems to hold their breath. They all wait for me to say something. Because they are all turned toward me, no one sees Josie clasp her hands, pleading silently with me to say yes.

Slowly, I nod. “Yes, sir.”

Everyone exhales. Then, a flurry of activity comes out of nowhere. Parents asking questions, sisters talking over each other, brothers causing a general upheaval. 

No one sees the look of gratitude Josie gives me.

Finally, after what seems like hours, but is probably only minutes, a doctor and nurse show up and shoos everyone out. After a quick check, they let one person come back in. 

Josie walks in sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“How long was I out?!” I demand quietly. “What’s going on? Why is no one killing each other? And I’m pretty sure you weren’t pregnant the last time I saw you!”

Josie laughs as she eases herself into a chair. “Do you want me to explain, or do you just want to keep asking questions?”

I zip my lips and settle back into the bed, ignoring the headache pounding behind my temples.

“It’s only been about 3 months since the accident,” she starts. “I was about 5 months along, hiding my bump under baggy clothes, not going out much. My parents want me to marry the father, but…I can’t.”

I open my mouth but she cuts me off. “Just listen, okay?”

She waits for my nod before continuing. “The doctors, they thought you wouldn’t wake up. Of course I hoped you would! I really did! I know that we’ve never been really close or anything, but our parents' feud has never been ours, and I still remember how it was back when we were little. So…I told my parents that you were the father.”

“What?!”

“Shh! They thought you wouldn’t wake up! I thought that it would be the right thing! They think its you, you die, I’m out. But…here we are.”

I am furious. “You dragged me into this without asking!”

Josie looks suitably guilty. “I know. And I’m so sorry. Really.”

I rub my forehead, the throbbing growing more persistent. “So, who’s the real father? Cause I know it’s not me.”

Josie sighs. “I…don’t really know. Not because I was sleeping around!” she rushes to say. “I was attacked. But if I tell my family that, you know what will happen.”

Unfortunately, I did. The last time anyone even looked at Josie wrong was in elementary school. Her parents showed up at recess and terrorized the kid out of sight of everyone until he was limp with fear. There were threats taped to his family’s mailbox and front door for weeks. Rumors said that Josie’s dad even attacked the kid’s father, but no one actually knew if that was true. 

If Josie’s family knew that someone had physically attacked their youngest daughter, the baby of their family, resulting in her pregnancy…there wouldn’t be anything left of the guy to find.

I sigh. “I hate to say it, but I’m failing to see the problem with that. If he attacked you…”

Josie shrugged. “I can’t be sure of who it was. I suspect, but it was dark. I’m just not positive.”

“So, what? You told them that we were dating in secret?”

She nods. “And now…” she falls silent, not meeting my eyes.

“What?”

Josie looks out the window, mumbling, “They want us to get married now. Before the baby comes in a month.”

“Josie!”

When she looks back at me, there are tears in her eyes. “Please. I will never ask you for anything else. All it has to be is a legal marriage. We don’t even have to live together. As long as there is someone claiming me and this baby, I think my parents will be satisfied.”

“Do I have a choice?” I grumble, crossing my arms and glaring at her.

She stares at me seriously. “Of course. If you say no, I will tell everyone that I lied, take the pressure off of you. I’ll try to find someone else, though I’ve exhausted most of my options. Or I’ll end up on my own. My parents already said they would never talk to me again if I didn’t do this. I can do it alone, I really can. I have a good job. It’ll just be…difficult.”

She holds her breath, waiting to see if I say anything. When I don’t, she slowly exhales and gets up with a grunt. “Well, thanks anyway. I’m glad you’re awake. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Josie starts toward the door, grabbing her things along the way. 

“Josie, wait.”

She turns, hope flooding her face.

I grin. “Let’s do it. But we do it my way.”

You wake up in the hospital after a major accident. To your confusion, your rival (your families have been feuding for years) is there crying tears of relief and calling you 'sweetheart.' What's even stranger is that she looks older and is visibly pregnant.

The first few days after the wedding were the most…interesting. My Our people were picking themselves up after a long war. They didn’t know how this was supposed to work. How to bow to the person who had been responsible for the damage, the casualties.

Inside the castle, things were just as confusing. My Our servants tiptoed around the castle, scared to death of my new wife, unsure of how she would act as mistress of the castle and queen of the land. 

I did not regret my decision, not then, not now. The adjustment just took some time. The wedding in particular was…memorable. Allowing the woman responsible for so many deaths into my the church, standing by her side, taking the vows only broken in death, was a surreal experience. Letting her into my our bed that night was even harder. She had given the order that led to my own father and brother dying, not to mention some of my cousins and best friends. 

After a few months, we slowly grew to know each other better. 

Years passed. We forgave each other, for I had caused almost as much damage to her people as she had to mine. Although nothing could undo the damage, we slowly built a trust and friendship with each other. At the same time, my our people learned to trust and respect her, and her our people did the same for me. 

It was not a conscious change.

It was slow and tedious.

It took care and intention.

One day, I looked at her.

My wife, my queen, my partner, my best friend. The woman who had started a war that took the lives of my family and friends, my our people. And I realized…I loved her. 

What had started in an effort to simply end the war between our people, led to a marriage of convenience, ended in a marriage of love. 

My dear Helena, while I did not love you at first, I love you now. I love you still. Forever and always, my wife, queen of OUR people.

From the diary of King Carlos Rolfson, 3173 A.D., shortly after the death of his wife, Queen Helena Rolfson (3096 A.D.-3173 A.D.), married 56 years

You were a beloved ruler of your country. When the evil king/ queen tried to conquer your country, you fought to the death to protect your country. Seeing how much your people loved you, the evil king/ queen proposes that you two marry to merge your countries. You accept for your country's sake.

"Oh. Yeah, it was tricky. Thankfully, I'm very smart. What do you think?"

"Unfortunately, I'm impressed."

“How could you?” “I can expla-“ “No, I don’t mean morally. Logistically how could you even pull something like this off?”

Why do you do it?

The little voice in her head never left her alone.

Why do you torture yourself over and over again?

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned, trying to drown out the noise.

You don’t have to suffer like this. Just walk away.

“No!” she shouted into her empty house. She curled into a ball on the floor, whimpering.

They wouldn’t care. They barely notice you anymore. It’s been almost two hundred years, Emmeline. Give up already.

She burst into tears, sobbing on her living room floor. 

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, only that the shadows had moved a great deal when she finally sat up and wiped her tears.

Emmeline stood, hearing a knock on the door. When she went to answer it, she looked down and saw Jules, the youngest child of the current generation. He grinned up at her with the toothlessness of a six year old.

“My mama let’th me come all by mythelf now!” he exclaimed proudly. He flung his little arms around Emmeline and gave her a tight hug. “I mithed you, Aunt Emma!” 

She knelt and hugged him back. “I missed you too, Jules. What are you doing here?”

Jules pulled away and looked at her gravely. “It’th a thecwet,” he said, trying very hard to not spoil the surprise. He only lasted a minute before he blurted, “You have a biwthday pawty tonight!”

Emmeline looked surprised. “A birthday party? For me?”

He nodded eagerly. “That’th why you got to come ovew to my houthe tonight!”

Emeline was stunned as she handed Jules a cookie and then sent him back home. She sat at the table and tried not to cry again, this time with happiness. They weren’t forgetting her after all.

She looked over at the lone picture on her mantle and smiled at the young family in the picture. In the months after taking the photo, she had hidden it away, not liking it. She was blinking, her husband was looking at her instead of the camera, and her son was trying to walk away, held in place by only her arm. She had brought the photo back out the day after her husband died, needing to see his face again. They never had a chance to take another.

Emmeline grew to love the photo over the years, especially as her son grew and had children, and then they had children, and so on.

Jules looked so much like her son.

She wished they could have met.

You don’t have to suffer. Just walk away.

“No,” Emmeline said softly, hugging the picture. “This is my home. This is my family.

“I will protect them.”

Most immortals become the angsty “everyone I have ever loved is gone” kind of immortal. You, on the other hand, instead took it upon yourself to be a loving presence to entire generations of your chosen family, because they are descended from someone you once loved long ago.

Edward strolled through the woods, whistling as he carried a basket of rolls on his arm. He’d been walking for almost two hours, but his feet were still light as he practically skipped through the shadows.

There was a low growl that stopped him in his tracks. He peered through the darkness. “Juno? Is that you?”

The answering snarl that came had Edward groaning. Of course it wasn’t. This happened at least every other time he came to the woods.

Still, he couldn’t stop the shiver of fear he felt travel down his spine when the creature stepped into the light. It looked like a leopard, but it was an odd shade of red, and almost as big as a hippo. 

Edward didn’t move, closing his eyes against what he knew would happen next. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the attack came.

A rush of air and a sharp growl as the creature pounced, a roar, a yowl as the creature was tackled to the ground. Then, a wet slashing sound and a whimper. 

“Can I open my eyes yet?” Edward asked awkwardly.

A smacking and gulping answered his question. He swallowed, feeling slightly sick. 

“Never mind.”

A few moments passed before the clearing fell silent. 

A sweet voice broke through Edward’s thoughts. “It’s clear now.”

He opened his eyes and grinned at the young woman standing in front of him. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, returning his smile. She reached out a hand and he took it, walking with her to the small, hidden cabin where she lived.

Edward set his basket of rolls on her table. “Here you are, m’lady. The monthly bribe to not eat me or anyone else.”

She laughed. “What did you bring me this time, Edward?”

He pushed it toward her, and she opened it, gasping with delight at the fresh rolls. “My favorite! Thank you!”

She immediately grabbed one and started eating it. 

Edward laughed. “Slow down, Juno! I didn’t think you’d have any room left right now! Did you see the size of that thing?! What was that, by the way?”

Juno swallowed with a gulp. “Red leopard.” She snickered at the look on Edward’s face before she took another bite, speaking with her mouth full. “Creative, I know. And I’ll always make room for your baking. Especially rolls!”

Edward laughed, but didn’t say anything. 

It took Juno a moment before she noticed, but when she did, her brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s wrong? It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

“No,” Edward rushed to reassure her. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand why you won’t come back with me. No one would care!”

He ignored the raised eyebrows Juno sent him. “It would be fine, it would! I’d make sure no one bothered us!”

Juno sighed, putting down her roll. “Because, they would care. Your village may not be very smart, since they haven’t figured…this out. And it’s been almost three years. But they would definitely notice if you brought a girl out of the woods and the “monster” disappeared without a trace.”

“They wouldn’t know it’s you!” Edward insisted. “They don’t know that you can shift. They just think you’re the wolf shape. They wouldn’t have to know! Please,” he begged.

Juno looked away. She couldn’t resist that face. 

“So…what?” Edward finally said, hurt. “What are we doing? I can’t live in the woods with you. I’ve only survived this long because of you. I’d be dead in the first week. You won’t come back to town with me.”

Juno closed her eyes, shaking her head. 

“I can’t keep doing this,” Edward whispered. 

There was a sharp breath, and then both of them had tears sliding down their cheeks. They cried silently together for several minutes, neither of them wanting to move.

Finally, Edward stood slowly. 

“No,” Juno pleaded. “Don’t go.”

She knew that if he left now, he wouldn’t come back.

“Have you changed your mind?” He asked quietly. When she shook her head, he sighed. “I’m sorry. Please…spare the village. If you’re mad, take it out on me, not them.”

“Just go,” Juno ground out. “I’ll leave them alone.”

Edward walked to the door and opened it, then paused, turning back. “If…”

Juno looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He sighed. “If you change your mind, or come up with another solution, you know where to find me.”

She nodded.

Her plan had backfired on her. What had started as simple fun and games, had turned explosive, and it had just blown up in her face.

She never expected to get hurt in the process.

Every so often, the local baker must bake something and personally deliver it to the monster in the woods, and in exchange the monster leaves the village alone. What no one knows is, the monster actually has a huge crush on the baker and needs an excuse to see them.

*turned out longer than intended, but I tried*

"Wait, so what do I do?"

Death turns and starts walking away. "Doesn't matter to me. I can't help you, sorry!"

With a huff of irritation, I find my way home. Strangely, I can't open the door; my hand passes right through the doorknob. But, when I try to go through it, all I get is a nasty bruise.

"Strange," I mutter to myself, inspecting the door. "Didn't expect that."

I end up waiting at the door of my former home for a few hours before my twin brother gets home. He parks his car and comes up, pulling out his keys.

As he unlocks the door, I slip in behind him. "Thanks," I say, even though I know he can't hear me.

He stops and tilts his head to the side for a second before shaking his head and setting his things down.

I freeze. Did he just hear me?

"Luke?" I try. "Can you- Can you hear me?"

He makes no movement that he did, and I deflate. Now what?

Upon further exploration, I discover that I can only touch things that belonged to me while I was alive. Books of mine? Yes. The TV remote that Luke bought? No. The crossword puzzle book that was a gift from Mom for both of us? Somehow works? The house that Luke bought and had let me live in for a few months? Apparently that was also a no.

With no idea what else to do, I sat down and started reading a book.

A few hours later, a loud crash sounds from the kitchen. I jump up, and find Luke making dinner (and dropping a pan on the floor). I'm about to turn around and leave, knowing he's okay, when I realize that there are tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Dang it," he whispers, picking up the pan. "Why is everything going wrong today?"

Right on cue, his phone rings. He answers it and sits down to talk to the caller.

"Hey, Mom. ... No, just making dinner. ... Yes, I'm fine. ... I have not been crying! ... Fine, okay, yes, I was." His voice wobbles a bit at the end of the sentence and he swipes a hand over his eyes.

"He was my twin, Mom. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I swallow. However I was feeling, it was a hundred times worse for my family. I reach out as Luke continues talking to Mom, and put my hand on his shoulder.

Luke pauses again, glancing around the room before finishing his sentence.

"Luke?" I try again. "I'm okay. I'm here for you."

Luke looks up and smiles sadly. "I know, Mom. He's still with us."

I take my hand off his shoulder and step back, shocked.

Over the next week, I slowly piece together the ends and outs of my nonexistent afterlife. Luke cannot see or hear me on a regular basis. Only when he needs me does he ever hear anything. I eventually decide that he can't hear the words, only feel the sentiment.

And so, I go with Luke wherever he goes. I am with him when he meets a woman, and I nudge him in her direction. I am with him when he proposes, calming his nerves. Same on his wedding day, and when each of his three children are born.

I comfort him when our mother dies, happy and contented. When Death comes to take her, Luke is fully unaware of the conversation that happens in the room.

Death looks surprised to see me. "I expected you to be gone by now."

I roll my eyes. "I don't know where you thought I would go. You couldn't take me, remember? I had to figure it out myself."

My mother steps out of the shadows, her eyes fixed on Death. "You're here for me, I assume?"

"Mom?" My voice cracks.

She turns and her eyes widen at the sight of me. She dashes forward and hugs me tightly. "What are you doing here? I hoped to see you, I just didn't think it would be so soon!"

I gently pull myself out of the embrace, tears forming in my eyes. "I can't go with you. I've been here all this time, watching over Luke and you, because I can't go on."

My mother looks shocked. "But why?"

I shrug. "I wasn't supposed to die that day. There's no place for me."

My mother is crying. "You know we always loved you, right? We tried to make you happy."

Death clears his throat. "Touching, but we really ought to get going."

"No!" Mom shouts. "Why? Why can't he come too?"

Death sighed. "He wasn't supposed to die that day, he told the truth. There must have been something he left unfinished."

I shake my head. "I don't know what it is, Mom. I've tried. I'll be okay. I'll look after Luke and his family. Maybe I'll see you again someday."

Death takes her, glancing over his shoulder at me with a nod. I return it, waving at my mother as she disappears.

The years pass. Eventually, I start helping Luke's children, whispering in their ears when they fight, filling them with remorse. Calling out for them to be careful crossing the street, narrowly avoiding a car. Guiding them away from the meaner kids, and leading them to their new nest friends.

When my twin brother dies, the scene with Death repeats itself. This time it's harder to let go.

Death and I explain the problem to Luke, but he doesn't accept it, shouting at us. Even when I promise to look out for his kids, all he can do is scream, tears rolling down his cheeks.

I walk away first, sobbing.

Many years later, Luke's daughter gives birth to twins. I immediately fall in love with them. Over the years, I help them over and over again, as I had been doing for ages.

Then came the fateful day. Death appeared out of nowhere as I was watching the 17 year old twins at a school dance.

Death sits down next to me. "Well, your time is just about done."

"What?!" My jaw drops. "Really? You're going to take me this time? Why?"

Death sighs. "You'll see."

I scan the crowd, looking for the twins. I find Kaleb easily, but not Kylie.

A few seconds later, a scream erupts from the back of the room. The crowd parts for teachers rushing through, revealing Kylie, lying on the floor.

Death stands.

"No!" I shout, grabbing at him. "I'll stay! You can't take her!"

Death pulls free of my grasping hands. "It's already too late." He points a long, pale finger, and I see Kylie's spirit in the corner, looking around confused.

I run up to her, followed closely by Death.

"Am I...dead?" She asks, unsure.

"Please," I whisper, standing in front of her. "Don't take her."

"Wait, I know you!" Kylie exclaims. "Grandpa Luke's brother! But you've been dead for like eighty years!"

Death shakes his head at me. "I'm not taking her. I'm taking you. She will stay."

Kylie looks even more confused now. "But...I'm dead, aren't I? How can I stay?

I draw in a breath. "Kylie, I've spent my time helping my family. They, I guess you, could sometimes hear me, like a little voice in their heads. You can probably do the same."

Death reaches for my hand.

I scramble back. "No, wait! Kylie, I thought this would be forever. I wasn't supposed to die young. Neither were you! Maybe that's why this is happening. You have to live first, do something worthwhile before you can pass on."

Death succeeds in grabbing my hand this time and starts to pull me away.

"You'll be okay, Kylie!" I shout back to her. "We'll be waiting for you!"

Death and I leave Kylie behind, looking bewildered.

We step through a dark veil, and when we emerge on the other side I see the most wonderful sight I'd ever seen.

My family.

Death looks at you, baffled. “You’re not supposed to be dead.” You raise a brow. “I’m not?” “Nope,” Death says. “Huh… that’s never happened before.” Confused, you ask, “Do I get to go to an afterlife now?” Death shrugs. “You can’t, because you’re not officially dead.”

I watched through half closed eyes as my wife “snuck” back into the bedroom, discarding her clothes and changing back into her pajamas before she slid into bed with me.

I hid a smile as I stirred, making her freeze. 

I mumbled, “Hey, baby. Did you get up?”

Her voice was pinched and high as she squeaked, “No! Just the bathroom!”

The snicker almost escaped, but I covered it by rolling back over. I fell asleep, only to wake up the next morning to find a note on the kitchen table.

“Sorry I missed you! My job needs me to travel for a few days. There's a convention in Springdale. Love you!”

I laughed out loud as I made my coffee. There wasn’t a convention center in Springdale. There wasn’t even a hotel.

A week later, she was late to my birthday party. 

A loose term, considering it was the two of us and a cake I picked up from the store. Oh, and some takeout! Didn’t want to cook.

She ran in the door. “Sorry, sorry! Got held up at the… office.” She hung up her coat and hat, coming over and kissing me deeply. 

I paused, pulling away slightly. “Love, do you smell something?”

She shook her head, confused. “No. What’s wrong? What do you smell?”

I hid my grin. “It almost smells like…blood. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

Her eyes went huge as she squeaked, “No! I’m fine! Must be…dirt! Tripped outside!”

I took a huge bite of cake. “Ah. My mistake. Hey, I was thinking of taking up a new hobby. What do you think about me becoming an assassin?”

I watched gleefully as she spit out a huge gulp of water, a true spit take. Finally, I am unable to hold in my excitement, laughing as she coughs and wipes her mouth.

Then she glared at me. “How long have you known?!”

I felt almost guilty when I said, “12 years.”

The look on her face was worth every second of it.

Your spouse (erroneously) thinks they’ve done a good job hiding the fact that they’re an assassin for hire from you. You’ve known for years now, but find just how awful they are at hiding it endearing, and don’t want to spoil it for them.