I always tried to make their death happy — as happy as death can be, I guess. I liked to say I brought an end to their suffering.

It’s hard when they don’t want to go, which is most of them. The hardest ones are the children. I don’t want to do it, but I always make it peaceful for them.

Looking into their innocent eyes. 

I love them. I love them all.

I didn’t have a boss to send my complaints. No HR. No therapist for me.

I’m the only one of my kind, wandering the Earth. Everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

The only time I was with anyone was the moment after it ends, when they cross over to my side.

They give me that look of confusion.

The really old ones give me a look of recognition. We greet each other like old friends, and we walk together hand in hand. 

The scaly, feathered, and furry ones too. 

I felt my purpose then.

I knew I was never truly alone. That I’d know you all, eventually.

Such beautiful souls, not long for this world.

I wished you could enjoy it for just a little longer.

Then one day my wish came true.

The dying children were no longer sick. Back to full health.

Somehow, the elderly were young again.

The accidents, the murders — all of it stopped.

Was it me?

How could I do that?

It must have been something. It didn’t matter. It didn’t change the fact that no one comes over to my side anymore.

Was I the reason they kept coming over, maybe? Was I the reason they died?

I don’t think I’ll ever know.

Now I peer at them all from the other side, watching the smiles on their beautiful faces. Watching them live their lives.

Alone.