Life is a twisted soul. Chasing happiness for the sake of losing it, suffering for a few moments of joy. There is no one more contradictory or enigmatic than Life. But to the frustration of all, she likes it that way.

Long ago, Life was planted in a dry empty land, a place devoid of any features or value. In that vague dust, she thrived, sprouting into a happy child, who loved to play. In her dreams, she was visited by fantastic images, the shapes of creatures and plants that had yet to be named.

Upon waking, she danced, and her dreams took form in the dust, growing horns, fur, and feathers. Leaves and vines burst from the soil beneath her feet. Her new friends joined her dance, running amok in this vibrant new landscape. She danced in the shallows, and from those ripples grew shinning scales and fins, quirky shells and pincers.

Life enjoyed this, but over time, she began to grow weary. As her dance slowed, the creatures of her dreams began to wander off, making their own families and forgetting about the dance. Once more, Life went to sleep.

When she awoke again, the world had grown up without her. The plants had grown wild and mischievous, while the animals became dumb and violent. The waters had spread, claiming the world in its patient embrace. Mankind, intelligent but cursed, had begun claiming a place for themselves.

Life found that the animals no longer remembered her, they were blinded to her, in sight, hearing, and touch. She was nothing. Among the people, she was ignored. Life found herself lonely to the point of despair. Then one day, she saw something horrific occur, brother fighting brother; but there was someone else there too, someone watching her.

He was pale and ragged, clothed like a beggar child. Yet, he saw her. Between them, the two struggled. Eventually, one was victorious over the other, and the other lay bleeding.

That was the day that Life met Death.

In the years that followed, Life learned more about the world. Back in the days when she had danced, there was another like her, the boy Death. However, the two could not perceive each other until a mortal passed. What she came to understand was that the beings of the world knew Death. They had forgotten her, but in her stead, they learned to fear the hand of Death.

At first, Life was insulted. How could they forget the happiness of the dance, and the simplicity of joy? But with each passing soul, she came to understand their fear. It was hard to seek simple joy when the footsteps of Death could be heard on every street. Perhaps it was different for them. Perhaps they could not perceive Death as she could occasionally. Maybe they only knew of him by their own actions. No matter how they knew of him, they spent much of their time preoccupied with attacking him. Yet, in doing so, they wasted sections of their own lives, wearing themselves down in a pointless exercise.

One day, Life decided to confront him about it.

She knew how to find him. She could always tell when a person was in that state of mind. As the trigger was pulled, Death appeared.

The shooter stood over his victim for a moment. It seemed like he wanted to say something rehearsed, but couldn’t form the words. Then he awkwardly ran away. Death stood over the bleeding man, shaking his head.

“Life, how are you?” He said with a pained smile.

“I have been better. I need to know something.”

Death checked the man’s pulse. “I don’t think we have long, but you’re free to ask.”

“Why do people care so much about you, but ignore me completely?”

Death continued to hold the man’s wrist. “They don’t care about me Life. They use me.”

“What? You take them to the other side. Why would they want to use you?”

Death shrugged. “Because they are afraid of you. I simplify things, you complicate them.”

“That’s ridiculous! Besides, you cause plenty of complications after you visit.”

Death chuckled softly. “Life, that may be true in general, but for someone who wants to use me, I am seen as a solution, rather than part of the process. You on the other hand, people are stuck with you for as long as they stay on this side.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that, I like people.”

“They fear you for their own sake. They can live long painful lives if you wish it. They can suffer through major or minor crises. They can feel alone…for a very long time.

Me, I just make it stop, as far as they can tell.”

“Why can’t they see me?”

Death’s figure began to fade, and the victim’s body seemed to relax as his spirit left. “It’s because they don’t really know you at all…” his voice faded as he vanished.

Life pondered these words for many days, observing the lives of humans, an audience to their routine. It seemed like every moment was spent in anticipation of Death’s visit. Yet, they appeared to fear him at the same time. This only made Life more frustrated.

Once more, Life and Death met on the threshold of passing. This time, their client was a laying in a hospital bed, filled with illness and sedatives. It was late and neither the patient would pass painlessly.

“They are ignoring you, because they have no proof of you anymore.” Death answered.

They had been speaking about several topics that night, due to the nature of this particular passing, there was more time than usual.

“I know that! But how am I supposed to change that? If you haven’t noticed, most of them are wasting what time they have.”

Death considered this for a few minutes, staring at the off-white ceiling tiles as he paced back and forth. Finally, he stopped, saying:

“This is probably a bad idea, but-”

“Whatever it takes.” Interjected Life.

“How about I loan you this one for a while? There is no doubt, I will have to claim him soon. But I could still give him an extension for a week or so.”

“That won’t be enough. If it is another week like this, he’ll call you himself.”

“Fine, a month and I’ll make the pain bearable.”

And so, Life and Death made a bargain. Death would give the man extra time so that Life could convince him to spend his life properly. However, the entire time, he would be in a state of agony, only slightly better than his current condition.

The next morning was shattered by the screaming. Life was delighted. The man was aware of every breath. Every movement sent waves of torment through his body. It was not a happy existence.

He was sent home in the first week. The doctors could not explain what had happened to his body, so it was decided that the most humane thing would be to allow him to spend his last days at home.

Life waited expectantly, hovering over his every action. Yet…

The patient waited for the visitor that would not arrive. The bargain was made, and he had escaped Death. But now, he was devoid of hope, and more pressingly…bored.

And then something happened. Sure enough, in the midst of the patient’s anguish, someone came along to change his perspective. She came as a friend. An old flame, once forgotten, reunited by chance.

The first days were rocky. There were many hatchets to bury, and yet, there was some unspoken promise between them, a will to mend old wounds no matter how deep. And despite the pain in his body, despite his previous petitions for oblivion, the patient felt happy to be alive.

In those days, he was aware of every moment. Yes, each second was painful, but the knowledge that he had been forgiven and could forgive made him see the world in a new light. Even though the doctors expected him to die at any moment, he was able to ignore that and relive the hope that he had lost, at least for a little while longer.

But all too soon, the month came to a close. Life waited with him, as did his beloved. There was nothing more to do but expect the inevitable.

Death showed up to wait with him.

“So Life, how was it?”

Life still watched the patient. The dying man and the one who cared held each other’s hand as if the world would break if they let go. His voice had grown weak, so she leaned close to hear him.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

She whispered the three most dangerous words.

“Time’s up.” Death murmured.

The man’s eyes grew unfocused, and his fingers which had been holding so tightly, lost their strength.

Death’s fading form called out a question.

“Was it worth it?”

Life did not answer. She knew the man was dead, that he could not be brought back any longer. In some special way, the woman understood too.

“Yes.” Life whispered into the silence.