found a pen and since I've died I've had more than enough time to wright.

What am I? What's MY purpose in this world of hate? This World of love. Nothing so far. Once I died and Death said "******** Off!" I moved on. Life has been getting worse since then. My own body rotted away so I added metal clasps to keep me whole. It hurts to move, but what's the point since I'm just bones. The worst part of this is walking down the streets of the bone bag humans. Clothing can only block so much. I was asked by my one living friend (and I use that term loosely) why I don't take my Noose off? Not like it would matter. I don't breathe anymore and humans only look at the bones anyway. After sitting on my forgotten tomb and looked endlessly at the other bodies I wondered why I was the only one moving about. Did I do something to be chosen? Am I so unique that God set me aside to live in Hell on Earth?

*sigh* Again I come back to this spot no matter how much pain it brings me. I talked with my friend once more. Sammy I believe he calls himself. We talked about the world. He seems to have so much hate for something so beautiful. I guess if dying is the only way to understand this, then humans have it bad. Humans. Something I refer to them as. I was once one of the mindless humans. Spending day by day living for each day. Not caring about what tomorrow brings. Pathetic is what I was. But now. I'm going to right that wrong. Since I have nothing to do but wright. I can go off and just tell this paper what I see.

It's been 3 days since I sat down and wrote. I feel drained. Humans tried to kill me. Like they don't see that I'm dead. Stupid humans thinking I'M the monster. I don't eat, don't sleep, and don't use anything, but my jacket and this pen and paper. What have I wasted? NOT A DAMN THING! They are the evil ones. Killing this planet with each gas tank they fill. Sammy thinks I am losing my brain from my death. I have never been so clear in my life. Humans sicken me.

I found myself starring at the sun today. More humans begin to think I'm a looney in a suit. But after three hours of starring I think I have them wondering. I sat down and starred. The sun is so beautiful, but it hurts the humans. I starred at it wondering about life. It seems Heat kills things, but at the same time it helps creation. Things I never looked at when living seem so wonderful now that I'm dead. I watched the flowers on my grave bloom. Such perfection in a small bundle. I walked in the grave yard for an hour or so. Looking at the graves and reading the tombs. Wondering why I'm not joining them. It's been almost 3 years since my death, but still I wander lonely. My wife, kids, and dog all died in the fire and I took my life to get rid of the pain, but I am the only one walking.

Damn it. Half my entries are gone and I have no way of recovering them. The few things I hold close to me my pen and paper. So some hobo steals them. Once I tracked him down and he tore my cloak off and saw me. He died. The look on his face was enough to show the cause of death. I scared him into a heart attack. His body shut down completely at my sight. Like I'm Death he just goes. As I walked to my grave I thought about that. Sitting upon my tombstone this finally came to me. I am Death. My purpose has been found. Since I'm not dying anytime soon, then I might as well take some time and eradicate those who don't deserve to live.

Long walks are the ones I seem to enjoy the most. I climbed up the ladder and into Sammy's room. He sat awake almost waiting for me. He greeted me with his own style "Hey Bone Daddy". I was used to this so it doesn't bother me, but it did the first time he said it. After explaining my purpose he smiled. The first time in his time with me. He walked me downstairs to his dads room. His dad was s**t-faced drunk and passed out on the couch so no need to be quiet. He opened the door and there before me was enough guns and ammo to kill about 6 third-world countries. I gave the toothiest grin possible (considering all I have is teeth). Loading up on guns and then as I left I knew I had to play the part well. I saw a Scythe and grabbed it. My cloak covered the guns and bones while my face and scythe showed.

This will be the final thing I wright down. Seems that my job requires lots of time and travel. Humans seem to fear me then they do their own horrible existence. I guess since this is my last passage I will leave you with more then a wondering statement about myself, yourself, or life. I am the Grim Reaper. I take the souls of those who do not deserve to live in this beautiful world. If I come for you then you better get on your knees. Cause your death is coming and I will not stop.

Copy Write 2004 Zach Baker