Bedtime

“Aahh… feels so good to finally lie down in bed!”

“You talk to yourself often?”

“Wha…? Who’s there?”

“I talk to myself too you know. It’s a good thing to do, helps me cope with the loneliness of it all.”

“Carlos? Is that you?”

“No, I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Then who are you?!”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said it.”

“Try me.”

“I’ve heard that one before…”

“No, really!”

“…”

“Oh my God! Are you a spirit?”

“Perhaps. What is a spirit to you?”

“I don’t know! A-a soul, I guess?”

“Do you have a soul?”

“What? Of course I do! I mean, I guess I do…”

“Then, are you a spirit?”

“Ok. I get your point.”

“You seem much calmer now.”

“Yeah, it’s strange, but I think I trust you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Wait… Are you like, God or something?”

“‘God or something’? Wow, you’re very respectful.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, um… my Lord?”

“I didn’t say I was God.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, it happens quite a bit.”

“” So, if you’re not God, then what are you?”

“If I tell you, will you promise me not to be afraid?”

“OH MY GOD! You’re… you’re the devil?!”

“I liked the god theory better…”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Will you promise?”

“Umm… yes, I promise.”

“I’m here to take your soul.”

“Oh no! You’re the Reaper?”

“Well, I’d rather not be called by that name, too dark. It reminds me of my rocker years.”

“Wow, so you really are the Reaper…”

“I bet you wish I was Carlos.”

“Well, yeah…”

“…”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Wow… there are so many things I wanted to do…”

“I’m sorry. I really detest my job.”

“Say, Mr. Reaper…”

“Yes, Isadora?”

“Will it…”

“Please, don’t cry.”

“It’s pretty damn hard not to!”

“I understand.”

“Well, will it?”

“Will it what, child?”

“Hurt?”

“Will what hurt?”

“Dying…”

“It didn’t, did it?”

“What?”

“You’re already dead.”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry.”