The modern Christmas fairytale of Death

She saw herself in a beautiful white dress. For the first time in so many years. For the first time in eternity. She walked through vast fields, surrounded by flowers, trees, and birds. She could hear in the distance the waters of a small stream with cold, spring, mountain water. Everything was variegated with colors. As if it was painted with the most beautiful oil paints. She was happy. She was free. Her breasts almost burst with love and joy.

And then she heard a loud bang. She looked around. But did not see anyone, nor did she register the culprit for this crack. She fell silent in anticipation. And heard it again. There was no apparent reason. Everything seemed calm. But suddenly she felt something pull her back. It was taking her away from the beauty before her eyes. The white dress was gone. It was replaced with a black one. The colors of the oil paints faded. The birds, the flowers, the clouds no longer stood out. Everything merged into one blurred nothing. The nothing continued to pull her back, and the farther she went from the fairytale picture, the stronger the crackle became. There was darkness around her with small stretched dots of light. Finally, she felt herself falling. And then she woke up.

She opened her eyes in her own bed and heard the crack again. It took her a few seconds to realize that someone was knocking on the front door. The intruder pounded hard and almost knocked the door down. She opened it.

“Good morning, Miss! I hope I didn't wake you up. Here is the list of the new 4 people you have to accompany to ‘you know what’. Have a nice day!” - The grinning wretch didn't even let her open her mouth. He just shoved the paper in her hands and evaporated.

It was 5 a.m. on December 25th. It was Christmas, for God's sake! At this time of year, normal people rested, had fun with their families and most importantly - slept late! They ate, drank, opened presents, dreamed, made plans for the future… She laughed. "Plans for the future! Ha! What deluded people living in an illusion. They don't even try to see the truth in front of their eyes”, she thought. She knew very well what the world was about and why some were born while others died. She knew that the world was a playground where everyone came to play, to fall a few times, to learn their lessons, and then to go home to think and realize things, and then start over. But she did not understand why people always celebrated birth and mourned death. After all, every end was a new beginning, and when one door was closing, another was opening…, or so all the "intelligent people" posted on social networks. She didn't understand this new trend with social media. People were all connected, but at the same time more separated than ever. They seemed to be talking to each other, but they hardly heard or understood one another. They seemed to see each other, but at the same time they were blindfolded. They said how much they loved each other, but inside they were empty… “They have been on Earth for only a few millennia, and how many lies they have become entangled in. And what would it be like if they lived forever? ”, she scolded under her breath as she was putting on her black toga.

She often pondered such life topics. She had seen many things and listened to many stories. Some people begged her to take them earlier, while others did not want to leave at all. Exactly like the children on the playground! And as usual, neither of them understood that things don't happen when they want to, but rather when the time is right. In general, humans had strictly predefined time on Earth and had to observe it. Well, of course, everyone had several possible exits to get out of the playground, but that was predestined as well. "No one can decide for themselves! They mess up everything anyway! They are born smart and wise, and then they become "knowledgeable" with diplomas and forget the true meaning. They just want, want, want, and give nothing. Greedy egotists! ”, she continued to complain. She hated being woken up early. She also hated the early risers. Because of people like them, she had to get up early so she could accompany them before "normal" people wake up. She was not a normal person, though. He was not even a human. She was Death.

She got dressed, straightened her hair and make-up (she was a woman after all), drank her morning coffee, or as she called it “evening” (for her, the hours before 9 a.m. were counted as in the evening), picked up her Sickle, and left.

Death was not what everyone thought she was. She wasn't scary with white hair and a skull face. On the contrary. She was beautiful, tall, slender, with light brown, almost red, hair, big and deep dark brown eyes and freckles all over her face. She was not a Victoria's Secret model, but she was a very attractive young lady. Young, how young was she? Well, the closest to her age was eternity. And yet, if they could see her, the living would die for her. Good they couldn't…

She didn't need vehicles to get from one point to another. For this purpose, her consciousness served her, or in other words, she simply teleported. "Only if they knew they could teleport too! But no! They live in their world with 'scientific evidence,' and if science hasn't proven it, it doesn't exist!", she said quietly.

If it has not become clear so far, we must note that Death did not love people very much, although her respect for their souls was boundless. That's why she had taken on the difficult task of escorting them back to the Home. To her, their souls were divine, yet they were created by and likewise her father and the father of all, God. But their bodies and everything that came with them… she found ridiculous and stupid. She could not comprehend how an ego could be so blinded by the material staff as to obscure and confuse the heart and soul, and a whole human life to be wasted in defense of meaningless "values" such as religion, ethnicity, political views, and the stupidest of all for her - material wealth. "They think they will take something material with them! Ha! Fools! ”, she continued as she pulled the sheet of paper from her toga pocket that the morning intruder had delivered.

She looked at the sheet, read the first line: "Vyara Petrova - 9 Folk Street, 5th floor, apt. 15, city of Varna ”, and set off. Only a second later, Death found herself in front of the front door of apartment 15 at 9 Folk Street in the city of Varna. He saw that there was a sign on the door with the names "Vyara and Stefan Petrovi" and checked the information in the paper so that a mistake would not be made. They matched. Death walked through the door without touching it and headed for the bedroom. Passing through the corridor, she noticed that the place seemed very familiar, and then she remembered that some time ago she had come here, but this time to take another soul with her - that of Stefan Petrov. When she came to pick up Stefan it was a warm summer day, the apartment was full of people, friends and relatives, who were just waiting for Stefan to die. He was lying on the couch in the living room, curled up and weak. He didn't even have the strength to speak. At that moment, Death took him while everyone was in the next room. Nobody saw anything. Five minutes later, Vyara entered the room and found his body empty, soulless. At that time, Vyara was still young - about 45 years old, and Stefan was about 50. She cried a lot and for a long time. She did not believe in reincarnation and thought she would never see her Stefan again. Today, December 25, when Death crossed the threshold of the very same apartment again, Vyara was already 92. She had spent half her life alone, refusing to remarry after the death of her husband. She had spent half her life wondering “why” and she had never found an answer. To this day.

Death entered the bedroom and found Vyara huddled and asleep on Stefan's pillow. She swung her Sickle and broke the silver thread that connected the body to Vyara’s soul. And Vyara awoke. Or actually, her soul.

"Good morning, I am Death. I am here to bring you to the Light.” - recited Death as a fourth grader.

"Okay, but how? Am I dead? Am I dreaming? Oh my God! But who are you? You should be ashamed…” - Vyara spoke confused.

"Well, I just told you who I am. Come on, no drama! And faster, please. I have others to take home.”

"But how did you get into my house? I'll call the police! Leave now!” - Vyara still didn't understand.

“Oh, another crazy one… Okay, call the police and then explain to them who I am and why your body is on the bed, while you are standing here next to me”- Death rolled his eyes.

Vyara looked at the bed and got shocked. She, or rather her body, was lying lifeless on the half of Stefan.

“Oh my God! What is this magic? What is going on here?”- she said intermittently. If she was not just a ghost, one would think that Vyara turned pale from what she saw.

“This is not magic, but the cycle of life. It's time to go home, but first I have to take you to the Light. There you will have the opportunity to review your life and rethink everything done and said during these 92 years.”- Death explained.

“But what about my children… my grandchildren… they will come today… it’s Christmas…”

"I'm sorry, but they won't come. They will be told that they have no one to come to. Don't be sad, Vyara. Beyond, for about 50 years now, a soul that you loved very much has been waiting for you.”

"Stefan! My God! Stefan!”- Vyara began to wail. - "But I haven't fixed my hair, and I have to choose my clothing," - she continued.

"What hair, what clothing, woman! Did you not realize that you are dead, and the dead cannot take anything material! Oh my God!” - Death became even more nervous. "And this is the first one for today. What else is waiting for me?”, she thought to herself. - "Come on, let's go. The earlier we leave, the sooner you will reach Stefan.”

"Oh, Stefan! Just to catch you, you bastard! You left me alone once again! It's not enough that I've barely seen you before, but…” - Vyara talked while holding Death with one hand and waving her stick with the other (not that she would need it now).

Stefan was a sailor who spent half of his conscious life in the waters of the Black Sea, away from his loved ones. So every year Vyara was left alone for about 6 months, working and taking care of their children while Stefan sailed on a ship. Vyara was happy with him until he got sick of tuberculosis and died.

Passing through the corridor of the apartment, Vyara looked around and saw all the photos, souvenirs and all kinds of objects collected over the years on Earth. She had come a long way, seen and experienced many things. But despite the earlier confusion, she was now calm and peaceful. Even a little excited. Death had to hold her back, not because of the advanced age, but simply because she was shaking with excitement to see Stefan.

They left the apartment and suddenly a tunnel of light opened in front of them.

“Go. On the other side you will see your life and Stefan.”- said Death.

"But how? Won't you come with me?”- Vyara asked.

“No, I have a few more souls to take home. I hope not as crazy as you.”- Death smiled.

“All right. But will I go to Heaven or to Hell? I slapped the children sometimes, quarreled with Kiro, the neighbor, and was annoyed by the gossiping old ladies in the block, but still I didn't do it with any bad intentions…” - Vyara worried.

“Do not worry. There is no Hell there. No one will judge you. Hell is down here and also here is the greatest judge - each one for themselves. Go.”- Death encouraged her.

Vyara walked the path of light, still leaning on her stick, though she no longer needed it. Death looked at her and, for some reason, smiled. Something in Faith cheered her up and warmed her inside. "She may not be that crazy. And maybe it's not bad to be crazy sometimes”, she thought, while still watching Vyara walking and preparing a speech for Stefan.

Death took the piece of paper out of her toga again and read what was written on the second line: "Georgi Ivanov - Bai Gosho, 3 Lost Street, on the sidewalk in front of the “At the Hero’s” pub, city of Vratsa." She put it back and left. A second later, she was facing a hut labeled "At the Hero's". She looked around and saw a sign on the side of the road that was saying “Lost Street”. She turned and saw the body of a man in his 60s lying on the sidewalk in front of the pub. Approach him. But there was something strange. The body was alone, the soul was missing. Death frowned. "Did someone take my job?", she wondered. She thought for a moment, then faced the pub again and decided to go inside and take a look.

It was already 6:30 in the morning of December 25, but “At the Hero's” worked 24/7 and was always full. Usually only old men, common workers, idlers, and this sort of people came in. People who once had dreams, but over the course of circumstances and thanks to the “glass”, had lost them, and the only thing that kept them alive was the alcohol. Former future heroes.

Death went inside. Although, she was not a human being, she could sense tastes, smells, touch, and so on. The moment she stepped on the doorstep of the pub, she wanted to take her own life, so to speak. The pub smelled of rubbish and cigarettes. But since she was a professional, she went moved on. She looked around and in one of the corners she saw a ghost sitting at a table next to 3 drunks. She approached him.

“Georgi Ivanov?”- she asked. But there was no reaction. - "Bai Gosho?" - Death said again.

"Oh, it's me, yes." - the ghost replied.

"Good morning, I am Death. I am here to bring you to the Light.”- she recited.

"Ah, finally! I've been waiting for you for so long. You're late!”

“I am never late!”- Death raised her nose.

"Let me ask you something before that. Those here don't see me or?” - bai Gosho asked.

"No, they don't see you or me." - Death replied.

"All right, but I think I can make them drink and I feel light and soft" - bai Gosho grinned, unaware that he was missing a few teeth.

"Yes, you can make them do other things as well, but that doesn't mean it's good. And don't get too carried away, because the lighter and softer you become, the more you will want to stay here and continue living in the nothing.”- Death explained.

"How come in the nothing?"

“Well, so - you will not be in this world, nor you will be in the other. You will be in nothingness and so you will only prolong your agony.”- she added.

“Aha. Well okay. Just wait for me to make him take another sip and I'm ready.”- Georgi said with a grin and turned to the drunks.

Death began to stamp her foot, signaling that she was not particularly comfortable waiting. Still, there was more to be done for the day, and it was Christmas. Although, she did not celebrate, she would still prefer to be at home in bed watching "Home Alone" than picking up drunks.

"Oh, it's so nice to have a drink, but it's not the same on this side of life." - bai Gosho began. "Nothing. Come on, let’s go home, take me there.”

They left with Death. She was surprised that he gave up so easily. It was usually quite difficult for her with the drunks, because they did not want to leave this world. They liked to drink and spend every day in meaningless conversations with others like them. That is why their spirits often clung to someone alive and made him to drink, and so it was continuing for days, months, even years, living between the two worlds.

“How so you leave so easily? Usually I have to have to drag people like you.”- Death asked.

“Well, how. I've been drinking all my life and I didn't get drunk enough. I've been drinking my whole life because I wanted to forget how I wasted it. I wasted my life because I drank, and I drank because I wasted my life.”- He grinned again. – “In my youth I was healthy and handsome. I fell in love with a girl from a nearby town, but she married someone else. Her father didn't like me, and she didn't oppose him. And there you go… I started drinking when I was 30 and since then I have been waiting for you to come for me. But you got late.”

“I am never late!”- Death moaned. But she still understood what he meant. - "Do you know what's coming next? Where am I taking you?”

“I know! You're taking me home! Finally home!” - cried Bai Gosho, with the expression of an enthusiastic child.

They left the pub and the Light tunnel opened before them.

"All right, bai Gosho. Move forward. Beyond the tunnel you will see your life - what you have done and what you have not. You will judge for yourself what was right and what was wrong. Then you'll go home and start working on the plan for the next one.”- Death explained.

"Thank you! Safe and sound!” - and bai Gosho ran to the Light.

"Safe and sound?! Who wishes Death to be safe and sound? ... ", she laughed out loud.

Death took the paper out of her pocket once more and read the third line: "Angel Karadzhov, 6 Monetary Str., city of Sofia". She closed his eyes and was at the address a second later. She looked ahead and saw a great crowd. It was 7 a.m. on December 25, and on the address were already a lot of people - police and medical personnel. In front of them all stood out the building of a large and famous bank. Death looked for the exact address and, when found that there was no mistake, entered the bank. In one of the offices, sitting in a large leather chair behind a desk, stood the body of a 35-year-old man, and next to him stood his spirit, looking around and asking questions to which no one gave an answer.

"God, what's going on? Why do I see my body? What is this blood on the chest? Why doesn't anyone answer me?” - the ghost asked in panic.

"Good morning, I am Death. I am here to bring you to the Light.”- Death said once again today. – “You must be Angel Karadzhov, right?”

“It's me, yes. But what has happened?”

"From what I see, you were murdered. Someone shot you in the chest. And the people around are cops and medical stuff who are cleaning up.” - Death explained calmly. - "Come on, it's time to go."

“No, no. I can't go. No! I'm not dead. I'm going to wake up now… I just don't know how… “ - Angel tried to touch his own body, but his hands went through it.

"If I am here then it is time."

"No, no, you're too early! I still have to time to live. I have a wife, children… I was just going to buy a yacht… no” - if Angel's spirit could cry, it would have flooded the office already.

"I am never early! I'm always on time! Ah, when will you people finally learn…” - Death replied irritably. – “And if we have to be more specific, you had a mistress and several large properties, but you no longer have them. Let's go!”

Angel was really confused. The last thing he remembered was that an acquaintance of his called him on the afternoon of the 24th and asked him to meet quickly and discuss an important deal that could bring many dividends to all involved. Karadzhov left his home, telling his wife he would be back in 2 hours. But that never happened, because in the early morning of the 25th, someone called the police to report a strange noise coming from the bank branch. And so from the early Christmas morning the spirit of Angel Karadzhov was already wandering lost among the living law enforcement officers, without being noticed by anyone.

"I really can't believe it! He said we would just talk about a big deal. And then he shot me. I also heard him telling me that I was paying for some of his lost benefits from the past. No, I…” - Angel kept talking.

“Yes, karmic laws do not let anyone slip away. When you took part in “a big deal", you entered a dead end, as you living ones call it, and your only way out was death. And here I am!” - Death smiled. She was still in the good mood that bai Gosho had left her in.

“What now? My wife, the children… what will happen to them? What will happen to me?”

"Your wife and children will be fine. God does not give anyone more than they can bear or, as in this case, does not take more. As for you - you come with me. I will accompany you to the Light, and after you go through the tunnel, you will reconsider your current life. You will judge for yourself what kind of person you were.”- Death explained. - "Come on, let's go. You have nothing more to do here.”

Leaving the bank, the Light opened before them. Angel walked next to Death, still shocked that until a moment ago he was alive, and now he was gone. Death stared at him and felt sorry for him. "What kind of mess he made in this life. He will have to repeat first grade.", she joked.

Once again Death took the paper out of her pocket, read: "Lyubov Hristova, St. Anastasia Hospital, floor 7, room 22, city of Stara Zagora" and left. A second later, she was in front of room 22 at St. Anastasia Hospital. She walked through the door and saw the hospital room from the inside - its left side decorated with garlands, snowflakes on the windows, and a small Christmas tree in one of the corners with gift boxes beneath it. When she turned right, she froze. Inside the room stood two men and a woman. One of the men was dressed in white and was apparently a doctor from the hospital. The other man, who spoke to the doctor, and the woman were about 30 years old. The woman stood by the left side of the hospital bed, holding the little hand of the little girl who was lying on the bed. To the woman's right stood the girl’s little soul.

“Are you Lyubov Hristova?” - Death asked.

“Yes, I am.”- the little soul replied.

"How old are you, Lyubov?"

“I had to turn 5 in the spring, but if you're here, I guess that won't happen, right?”- the child smiled.

If Death could cry, that would be the moment to cry herself to sleep. The most difficult task for her was to collect the souls of the children. Although, she thought they were the purest of all people, because many of them still had memory of the afterlife, the meaning of all and the reason for their appearance in this world, she was still filled with sadness when she had to accompany them.

"You know who I am, don't you?" - Death asked.

"Yes, you are Death and you have come to bring me to the Light!" - the child replied enthusiastically.

"But aren't you sad that you're leaving your mother and father?"

“No. I came to teach them how to love. I have done my duty and now is the time to leave.”- said Lyubov.

"Do they love each other? What will happen to them?”- Death continued.

“They do love each other. But they will not stay together. It's time for each one to go their own way. You know how it is. Their souls have met to learn something. Then I came to teach them the most important things. And now that they are ready, it is time for each of them to move forward.”

Death felt like she shed a tear. Once again, she was convinced of how wise and good the children's souls were. She loved them, adored them, and learned from them.

"All right then, Lyubov. Are you ready?”- Death asked.

“Just a second.” - the spirit of Lyubov caresses the hand of her mother, who held the hand of her little body. Then she went and put her arm around her father. She turned to the two of them and told them how much she loved them, and then nodded to Death.

Death swung her Sickle and almost immediately the devices, attached to the little body, began to make a noise. The doctor rushed to do artificial respiration. He called for help from the nurses. All together were trying to bring Lyubov’s body back to life, but her soul had already decided to leave this world because she had done her duty. Her parents in this life, embracing, gave each other hope, but something was telling them that Lyubov had already followed her own path.

“Let's go. I'm ready.” - said the child with a smile on its face.

She took Death's hand and they walked to the door. As they passed through the door, the Light appeared before them. Lyubov let go of Death's hand and rushed forward with outstretched arms as if she was running across the flower fields from Death’s dream.

"Wait! Slower! Do you want me to come with you?” - shouted Death.

“No! No need! I'm going home! Thank you!” – replied Lyubov.

Death still felt like crying, even though her face was dry. A lump was stuck in her throat, but she knew it was for the best, because each end was a new beginning, wasn't it. And the new beginning was always a good thing.

Death closed her eyes and found herself at home. She tossed the toga on the floor, leaned her Sickle against the wall, and tucked herself under the warm blankets. Then she let herself watch “Home Alone”. It was Christmas after all, and miracles happened at Christmas, and her miracle was called Macaulay Culkin.

Autor: Vania Dzhoneva - Soul Healer

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Photo: Internet