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The Watcher


I sit on the bed, panting. My pajamas are sweaty. Again. I glance at the clock. It’s 2:41 a.m. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon.

‘Another nightmare, wasn’t it?’

I look around the room. My heart is pounding like crazy. I see a dark figure sitting on the edge of my bed. Am I having another bad dream? Maybe I never woke up?

‘You are awake, Oliver,’ says the stranger, as if he could read my thoughts.

‘W-who are you?’ I ask, trying to control my trembling voice.

The shadow moves a little closer.

I squeeze Mr. Bunny to cheer myself up a bit.

‘I’m Death,’ replies the figure.

‘D-death?’ I stutter. ‘A-are you going to…?’

‘Take you away? Not until you want me to,’ says Death.

I’m confused.

‘Why would I ever want to die?’ I ask, surprised.

‘Oh, Oliver… You’re nine. Of course you don’t want to die. But I think you’re very sad sometimes, aren’t you?’

I look at my sore hands. There’s a lot of small bruises left by IV catheters.

‘Mom says it’s okay to be sad. Or cry. Even adults cry,’ I respond bravely.

‘Your mom cries a lot, am I right?’

I say nothing. I’m scared he knows so much.

Death breaks the silence and asks, ‘Oliver, what if I told you there’s a place where you can play with other kids? The place where you don’t have to take medications?’

I frown. ‘You’re lying. There’s no such place. I can’t leave hospital.’

‘I can show you. You wouldn’t feel pain anymore… your hair would start growing back…’

I gently touch the skin on my head. I kinda miss my hair. And being, uh, normal. But…

‘What about mom and dad?’ I ask, troubled. ‘Are they gonna be there with me?’

‘No, but they will join you one day, I promise.’

‘Pinky promise?’

‘Pinky promise,’ Death nods, serious.

I take a deep, wheezy breath. ‘Fine, I’ll go with you.’

The dark shadow comes closer. ‘Don’t be scared, it’ll only hurt for a moment.’

Before I say anything, I feel something heavy on my chest. I try to fight it but I’m too weak.

Sharp pain spreads across my lungs and...

The heart rate monitor releases a steady, high-pitched noise.

I don’t feel pain anymore.

I’m free.

***

The beeping noise alarms the nurses. They rush into room 302 together with a doctor. A couple of minutes later, they walk out in complete silence.

One of the nurses goes straight to the visitors’ room.

‘Mr. Welkins,’ she says with a hushed voice, ‘your son has just passed away. I am very sorry...’

The man looks deeply into her eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks.

The nurse squeezes his cold hand and adds, ‘At least Oliver doesn’t suffer anymore.’

‘I know,’ replies Mr. Welkins, stuffing a big black cloak deep inside his bag.

His watch is over now.

---
Credits

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