Italics- thoughts/ flashbacks/ dreams

Bold- author talking

Underline- narrator talking, known as the main character

Normal- normal story

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I look at my arm and see a pencil. I look at the owner of the pencil and see Athena look at me with her big brown eyes that fit her perfectly.

"Whatcha thinkin about now? Did you find a cute boy?" she teases.

I smile, "No cute boys for me."

"You could talk to the guy that I told you about."

"The cashier guy?"

"No, he's mine. I'm talking about the one that looked at you the other day."

"Oh that. Who was he?"

"I don't know but I could set you 2 up on a date."

"I don't even know what he looks like."

"Blind date."

"WHat if it was one of those things where he was looking at someone or something else and I was just in the way?"

She thinks for a moment, "could be. If it happens 20 more times then it's a sign."

"20? Why not 222?"

"222 more times with only half the school year?"

I nod, "Actually it should be 2,222 times."

"But what if I miss a day or 2? I also can't keep track of all that since most of his classes aren't even with us."

"Well I guess no guy for me." I carelessly shrug.

Then I wonder late at night why I'm alone.

Am I still considered alone now though?

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Well school is over and we're going places.

Like... her apartment to make food. Or the park. We haven't decided yet.

"What would we make?" I ask her.

She stands still for a long moment, "sandwiches."

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"Then what would we do at the park?"

"Talk."

"Then we should go to your apartment because we can do both there."

"Alright." and with that we walk around the school and down the street to her apartment.

Once we get in the hallway we pass mine and I get sad.

The familiar place that I would call home for 3 years.

I only have one home though but this one wasn't that bad. Now I have another place that represents a home. #9.

The only place I got the 'home feel' was number 5. And that was for 2 seconds.

We walk in her apartment and I feel like I belong here.

Forget death. Athena owns every part of me. My heart, soul and unconditional loyalty and love.

I owe her everything.

So I shall make her a sandwich instead. Food is the answer to everything.

Until it's not.

I follow her to her kitchen which looks nicer than mine ever did. She opens the fridge before pulling out almost everything.

I look at everything on the counter, "why so much?"

"We have to make many sandwiches."

"With all this?"

"If it can go between 2 pieces of bread then it's a sandwich."

"A cheese and... fish and cereal sandwich?"

She closes the fridge and looks at me, "girl, what the hell?"

I smile, "I'm just using your logic."

She sighs before grabbing other things and blindly throwing them at me.

She then throws a knife and I yelp while catching it. "What the fuck? You're crazy!"

She slyly smiles at me, "bitch you're crazy too. Don't act like I'm the only one."

I look at the blade that's covered by my fat fingers, "I don't throw blades though."

I throw it in the sink and rinse off my bloody hand.

"Of course not, you love the mental torture and to confuse people."

I flick water at her with my non bloody hand before wrapping the other one with paper towels, "and that's why we're a perfect team. And I got out of that habit years ago."

She soaks her hand before flinging water back at me, "yes because you made too many people cry and threaten to kill themselves you suck fuck."

"I was stupid then."

She shrugs, "good thing you're not stupid now."

I grin, "now if only I could say the same about you."

She rolls her eyes before properly washing her hands and sorting out the food. She puts the fish back in the fridge and cereal against the wall.

I wash my hands too. Awkwardly though.

It's across my whole palm. Why couldn't it be somewhere else?

How the hell did I catch a flying knife?

I walk to her bathroom and go through everything and find gauze and Neosporin. I put both on before walking back to the kitchen.

"So has anything happened between you and the guy you were talking about?" I stand next to her and look at everything on the counter.

"I kept bothering him and then got kicked out. He has a restraining order against me."

I look at her shooketh.

Hehe. Shooketh.

"I told you to not terrorize him."

"I'm joking, I just got his number." She says in a concealed squeal.

I don't conceal it though. "Oh my God what does this mean?!?"

"It means I got his numberrrrrrr."

"That's all?"

I know nothing about any of this.

"Yes, now make food with me."

So I make food with her.

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Now I'm sitting next to her on her couch chair thing that fits 2 people and we're watching Harry Potter.

She has a glass coffee table in front of the couch chair and a tall slim bookshelf in the corner full of books.

She flicks my arm and I turn to look at her, "what?"

"Did you get any responses from the poem contest?"

"Poem contest?"

"Yea the one you entered about 3 months ago."

"Oh I forgot about that. I don't know anything yet."

"When will you?"

"Eventually. I only entered it for fun."

"Was there a prize or anything?"

"$1000."

"You didn't enter for the damn money?"

"Nah. I just wanted to see how good my writing is. Best at top of the list and worst at the bottom."

"What did you submit?"

I see Tom riddle on the TV and get distracted for a minute. Fucking hot.

Death looks like a taller, buffer and blue eyes version of him but with all the black lines.

I see Athena get distracted too from the corner of my eye.

Once the scene was over we came back to this horrid reality. And I try to remember what I sent in.

"I don't remember at all."

"Then tell me a poem you would send in if the event started today."

"Alright..." I think for the biggest fattest minute.

"The dark devil cave sees no light

It's mouth has impeccable height blind from sight

Broken walls and ridged rock balls

It richoches the water's cry

Down the twisting bends here are claws

The paths awry

The tunnels hide unseen pause.

The hallow foresees the window pane of her heart,

'You were a shallow mistake'

It hears her complaints,

'Why, oh why does this happen to me?'

Opaque rackles plague the air for despair,

'What's the point?'

It turns to the right.

The obsidian cracked cavern stays left behind the tree's bark

Vibrations mock her wails

Unseen leaders still lacerate the broken ground."

I think that's pretty good for a last second idea.

"That's pretty damn fucking good. What does it mean?"

I smile, "my lifeeeeeeeeeee. You know."

She pauses for a millisecond, "yes I do."

We turn back to the movie to see the basilisk get killed.

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I leave her apartment and walk to mine.

Is it still mine?

I don't know what happened to the keys.

I walk down the stairs, wave to the desk lady and walk out the building. I look around wondering what to do.

Well the school week is over and tests are passed.

I walk around the streets I know to find ice mounds. Being tall is fun.

I found one, actually the same one as last time and the snow from yesterday froze over so it's taller.

I stand tall as I've ever been waiting for something to happen.

Hopefully hell doesn't break again. Maybe heaven this time. Some good wouldn't hurt.

Actually no, all the evil on this planet will hurt the good souls.

I look at my phone and clear everything and check the rest.

Oh well look at that. Tomorrow begins February.

Yay another month closer to the end of the year. Then spring break and finally summer break.

Will I be alive by then? Will anything change? Of course something will change but how much?

Would I finally find love by then or keep role playing a bad bitch that doesn't need a man? What color would my hair be? How is my mental health going to be by then?

Maybe my fashion will get better. Maybe I'll finally lose 40 pounds and actually be pretty enough to love myself. Maybe I'll heal after all the years. Maybe my back pain will go away.

Hopefully.

Death appears in front of me and I lose my train of forever ending thoughts.

"What are you doing out here?"

We're almost the same height. Now he's only an inch taller than me. I love this.

"I don't know. Existing?"

"Do you have any plans?"

I look around the night covered buildings, cars and streets, "no."

"Good. Now tell me what happened to your hand."

I look at my hand. I forgot that happened. Damn my memory is horrible.

"I caught a knife." He raises a brow. "I caught a flying knife. I would have preferred grabbing the handle but it was still cool."

"Why was there a flying knife?"

"It got possessed."

"By who?"

"A ghost. Duh."

His lips flatten into a thin line and he looks at me with half open eyes, "you're a bad liar."

"Well yea."

"So who?"

"Well whoever it was didn't even do it that well. A stake knife, really? It could have been something cool or even as simple as a dagger. Even a butcher knife would be cooler." I look at my hand and remember how tall they are, "actually never mind about the butcher one. I wanna keep my hand."

He ever so gently grabs my wrist and looks at my horribly wrapped hand. I never put gauze on before.

"It's too tight. Now tell me who the hell threw a knife at you." He unwraps the gauze and inspects my palm.

"I did. Yes, I was playing around in culinary class and wanted to show my non-existent juggling skills to everyone."

He inspects every angle, "your 'culinary class' is more non-existent than your juggling skills."

Dammit.

"I also didn't know that 'everyone' was your little friend." He looks at me. "Was it a makeshift class in her kitchen?"

My eyes widened, "uh... yes."

"If you weren't a mere human I'd slap you for lying.

And I'd kill your little friend but I'm not that dumb."

Ok then...

"Sorry."

He faces my hand again, "are you?"

I think for a solid moment, "actually yes. I'm sorry for lying to you."

I don't like lying but it's fun. Unless I get in trouble then it's not fun. Or someone else. Or if it makes someone mad or sad or hurt.

He seems to accept my answer I think. He doesn't look that annoyed at least.

I see the black mist for a split second before the scenery changes to a curved gray hallway with a brown door right in front of me.

He pulls open the door and lets it swing open but grabs the top before it hits me square in the face.

Doors don't like me. And door frames. I'm either walking into them or getting hit by them.

I look in. Oh it's a closet. Oh my gawd it has stuff in it.

This can't be death's house. There's no way. But the dim lights and gray walls say otherwise.

I watch him go through things, throw things on shelves and go through more things before turning around to me and grabbing my hand again.

"How come the closet has stuff in it?"

"I stole it from Lucifer."

He puts something over the cut and it stings but I shall not cry like a baby. He then wraps it in a way that looks much better than mine. It also feels much better.

"Why'd you steal from Lucifer?"

He shrugs. "Things happen."

He then looks me deep in the eyes and my stomach flips, "How the fuck did you catch a flying knife?"

I pause my entire existence and wonder, "Reflexes?"

"You have fucking great reflexes then. Probably makes up for your lack of balance."

"I only walk into things every few hours. It's not that bad."

He messily throws the things back in the closet and closes the door. He starts walking down the hallway without a word and I follow.

"So do you want to see the shadows?"

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If anyone steals my poem I shall sue you for copyright and being an ass.

My English teacher helped me hehehehe.

He said it had potential on the first draft and said it was a really good first draft. So I wrote a really good first draft 👁️👅👁️💅💁

Take that all the non existent people that said I can't write 😌😏😸

Lmao. Let me know if y'all want a chapter in death's pov.