Okay so a huge chunk of decent writing was accidentally deleted, so I had to try to rewrite it (this is what I get for not writing it on google docs first .-.). I'm sorry if I did this horribly.

Annaise feels terrible, as if a bat were being hammered into her stomach again and again. I could've saved them, she thinks solemnly, I could've created a difference in this world.

"Oh here, now I think it's working. Come Annaise, touch my hand."

Annaise does as the Reaper tells her to, and she holds their hand like a child to their mother. This time, Annaise didn't just experience sickness in her stomach. She'd felt chills down her spin and what felt like pin needles being shot into every inch of her body. The pair fall onto the ground with an ungainly manner. "It's much more rough than the last time we did this, but at least we're here in one piece. We are here in one piece, correct?"

"Correct; I'm fine."

"Great, now we can move on. Where do you think we are Annaise."

The first thing that seeps into Annaise's line of sight is the nautical furnishing store that belonged to the one and only Billy Joan. "Are we home?" she asks tentatively. But when she begins to observe the rest of her surroundings, she notices that some buildings have been renovated, and some weren't there at all. "Or perhaps this is my home in the future? The past?"

"The future," the figure corrects. "We don't like dwelling on the past as it has no relevance to what our task is. It isn't very important anyway. What's done is done, and we can't change that. But the future; the future is unpredictable and completely adjustable to the actions of the present."

"We? Who's we?"

"Us psychopomps. We guide the souls to the place of the dead."

"Oh."

"Yes; oh now it's nearly time. Come, follow me." Together, they dash unseen into a clearing which Annaise noticed was once the community park. She sees a large screen that sits in front of them, and on it is a young, pretty lady - maybe around her late twenties - with a blonde pixie cut and porcelain skin.

" - and just last night, a couple by the names of Thomas and Vivian Walker have been reported to have died. They were found by a few of their said friends, who had come over with a 'gift' for the two. With further investigation, the police have noticed that they had been consuming drugs, which may have caused their death. We still do not know if this was a suicide or simply an accidental overdose of drugs, but officials are still gathering information. We do know that the couple had been holding each others' hands as they lay dead on the foot of the couch. Police think that there's a bigger meaning behind this, but as said earlier, we are still gathering information. However, after we have dug into the family's files, we've found out that their daughter, Annaise Walker, has committed suicide abo-"

"They're dead?" Annaise asks in shock.

"That's right," the figure says with somewhat of a carefree lilt to their voice. Annaise instantly infuriates.

"My parents have just killed themselves. Why aren't you grieving, or at the very least acting surprised?"

"I'll admit that I'm a little bit surprised it'd actually turn out this way, but that's it. And for the other subject, I have no need to mourn them. I have no sadness nor distress at the mention of their death, so therefore I cannot grieve."

"Well that doesn't change a thing," Annaise retorts, "They've killed themselves, just like I had. Aren't you going to grieve for them like - I suppose - you've done for me?"

"It's different Annaise."

"There is no difference. They have committed suicide. I have commited suicide. If you're being so compassionate to me, I don't see why my parents are any different."

The Reaper huffs, then grabs the hand of the little girl as they whisk themselves away yet again.