The rap at the door was altogether unexpected. I was thankful that my heart no longer beat in my chest, otherwise it would have been racing along to me jumping out of my skin and off the sofa as the rapid succession of thuds sounded across my empty home.

Home.

It had become that way, I guessed. My non-existent heart ached.

I flung the door open, ready to chastise whoever it was who had scared me to death, when I was greeted by Death himself. The irony was not lost on me.

"Hi." I said to break up the silence as Death stood in my doorway, head hung, eyes downcast. I glanced over him, not liking what I saw. His usually pristine trousers and long dark top were crumpled, his brushed back hair askew.

"I'm going crazy, and I don't know what to do."

It was barely a whisper, but I heard the words leave his lips.

After pulling him into my arms for a quick hug, I ushered him inside. Wordlessly I took his Grim Reaper cloak and scythe, hanging it with my jackets and propping the scythe up next to my rainbow umbrella. If Death didn't look so sad and lost, I would have laughed at the sight.

"Does that thing actually have any use at all?" I asked, pointing to the scythe, now leaning next to my umbrella.

He shook his head in reply. Dropping to the sofa, leaning forward and clutching his hair as though, if he pulled hard enough he would be able to pull out every inch of the black bleakness that clung to his soul. But life did not work that way.

"Here." I passed him a newly warmed mug of hot chocolate. "A warm drink and chocolate in one, the perfect combination." I sat across from him on the footstool, taking sips from my own mug, watching him, waiting for him to say something more. I found that the longer you stayed quiet, the more someone else would want to fill it with what was on their mind.

"I'm going crazy." He said again, louder this time, so that was progress at least. He glugged down the hot chocolate, ignoring my wince as the scalding milk flowed down his throat.

"I am many things to many people." He began, staring down into his empty mug. "I am the leader of Demons who are locked in servitude for their sins to their God. I am a servant to the divine powers that created me. I am Despised by those who are happy and love, and worshipped by the desperate and depressed. For thousands of generations I had watched others live their lives and leave them. I have seen war and famine, and I have seen growth and life flourish."

I sat, transfixed, realising perhaps for the first time that this was no man who sat before me as he let out a bark of a laugh, his eyes moving to the ceiling to hide the water pooling in his eyes.

"I have tried before, to enter your world. I cannot alter the path of those destined to die, but I thought perhaps that wouldn't matter. I could be me, and be loved and be... normal. I could be human."

A tear rolled down his cheek as he buried his face in his hand and turned away from me.

"There is no shame in feeling lost, or alone. There is no shame in crying. We all do it. We all need to do it, otherwise it will stay locked inside our very souls, eating away until we are nothing but shells of who we are, of who we could be." I replied, setting my mug down to rest my hands on his knees, my eyes pleading with his hidden ones to believe that what I was saying was the truth.

"It is too late for that. I have been the shell of a man since my creation."

"Let go of the past. It does no good to anyone to hold on to the things we cannot change." I squeezed his legs, hoping I was bringing him some comfort.

"I am immortal. I have watched people I told myself It was OK to love wither and die. I have seen their faces when they see It is me who takes them on and their disgust at me not stopping their decay."

"To be human is to love, and to lose. Grief is normal, anger is understandable. But those things don't define you. Learn to cook, move to a home that is full of light, see a show, talk to people! I'm not the only Death Dancer, who is to say we can't all meet up occasionally and have a party. I'm dead too you know, so it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon." I leaned down to look up at his face as he hunched over, smiling kindly at his broken soul.

"How? How do I change who I have been for thousands of years? I am a man who has nothing!" Death leaned back, finally looking into my eyes.

"You're wrong." I replied, gesturing blindly to the world around us. "You are a man who could have everything."

Only a few more chapters to the end of this little story! Thanks for sticking with it! 

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