Henry Romanoff.

     Age:12

     Date: 2/26

     Time of death: 23:56:30

     Cause of death: Lung cancer

     Extra: None.

     Comments: None.

     I looked at the report my boss had given me. This was my first patient for the day, or night, as it wasn't yet the next day. At the moment I was stationed at a public hospital. There is going to be a lot of work today. In the evening I am scheduled at a high school. Seems like a fire was going to go off. The alarms would be faulty.

     I quickly finished copying the information into my planner before closing it, I sighed, tucking the report in the back. Everyday was the same. Routine. Emotions were so hard to attempt, except tiredness, though I never actually feel tired, it was just some situations that evoked that response. It's hard when you work all day and night, every day and night. I guess I should be thankful that tiredness wasn't built in me.

     I don't think I remember what it was like to eat, to drink. Maybe later I'll buy a little something and try.

     Sleep was something that always fascinated me, and always eluded me.

     What was it like having an infection, a sickness, getting injured? I shouldn't be thinking about these situations. We weren't supposed to focus on these things.

     Sometimes I wish I could feel something. Be it hunger, thirst, or one of the many symptoms that came with being sick, one could always use a break when it came to a job like this.

     It's really too bad that we don't do breaks.

     I entered the hospital unseen, not like we ever were, and found the room number easily. Everything that could be needed was in my planner, I liked to be organized.

     Entering the room, I walked briskly across the tiled floor and looked down at the little boy in the hospital bed.

     He was connected to multiple tubes that kept his weak heart from failing, pumping oxygen and nutrients into his frail little body. Though comfort in hospitals were sparse and the beds only had the bare minimum of a couple pillows and a thin sheet for a blanket, his little frame seemed drowned in it. His skin was stretched tight over bone, pale and lifeless, his breath was raspy. He already looked like a corpse.

     I looked down at the list in my planner to quickly confirm that he was the one that I was to take away. Because I had arrived at 23:30, we still had a little time to kill. A little more time to spend together.

     I looked for any additional information. It was always a little amusing to see who would miss those that passed. Who would be crying over a corpse that used to contain someone so precious to them.

     Additional Family:

     Father: Robert Romanoff (38)

     Mother: Marielle Romanoff (36)

     Siblings: 1 sister: Natalia Romanoff (8)

     I smiled a little though I knew I shouldn't be.

     They would most certainly miss him.

     I looked at my watch again, 23:46.

     Ten more minutes.

     I heard the sheets rustle and looked down as 'Henry' lazily opened his eyes. They were a nice blue-green, just like the report had detailed, and though his hair was short and thin, I could most definitely tell it was brown.

     He looked up at me and I smiled.

     "Who are you?" he rasped through the tubing and breathing mask that covered the lower portion of his face.

     "I am your reaper." I said with a little smile, first impressions were important.

     "Am I dead?"

     "No."

     "Oh." he said with a little surprise, shaking his head slightly as his eyes closed again.

     I chuckled, he must think he's starting to see things.

     I heard someone walk in and turned around to see the doctor walking in, clipboard in hand and Henry's family in tow. I can see the worry in their eyes and the dark circles that underlined them.

     The small group crowded anxiously around his bed. The doctor was checking his vitals and by the look on his face I knew that they weren't good. His parents were saying their greetings, telling him he'll be okay, that they'll get through this.

     I almost laughed. They knew he wasn't going to get better and yet they still cling onto false hope.

     Looking at my watch again, the time appeared to be 23:56:13.

     Walking over to stand beside his bedside, I waited for the right time, hand hovering over his fevered forehead. I began to count the seconds as they passed by steadily.

     20

     21

     22

     "We have enough days off from work saved up to take a trip somewhere fun once you can leave the hospital, we'll let you decide where to go." his mom said and his dad laughed halfheartedly, smiles were still plastered to their faces though neither of them reached their eyes, the corners of their mouths seemed stuck in place.

     23

     24

     25

     "Yeah big brother, I know we'll have a lot of fun." his little sister added, leaning over him with a trickster smile, "I know you'll get better soon. Then we can play again!" she was still a little too young to understand his situation.

     26

     27

     28

     His eyes opened a fraction of an inch, showcasing his tired brilliant green-blue orbs for the last time.

     29

     30

     I connect my hand to his forehead and watched as his soul drew away from his body, hovering a couple inches from his chest. I took my hand off and watched as his head lolled to the side, the annoying machine that tracked his heartbeat emitted a high pitched whine as his mother started to scream.

     I ignored the noise of the doctor attempting to reanimate his heart and his family's sobs and screams. They were futile.

     Grasping the glowing orb carefully, I tucked the soul safely into the large black satchel hanging off my shoulder, whispering softly to it before the glow dimmed down and the soul seemed to relax.

     I looked up to greet the transparent boy lingering at the side of the hospital bed. Staring at his lifeless body with wide eyes. Horror written all over his expression as he reached a hand out to his body.

     I placed my hand on his shoulder and he jerked around to face me.

     "Am I dead?" he asked flatly, already knowing the answer.

     I took note of the slightly curled chestnut hair on his head, he looked more alive at this moment than he did when he was actually alive. Then again, this was what he looked like in full health, with no cancer eating away at his body. The eyes were the same green-blue though, they were shocking.

     "Yes, you're dead. This is your spirit projection, I already pocketed your soul."

     "So what happens now?"

     "Now you move on."

     "How?"

     "I'll guide you there, that's my job after all."

     "Okay." he said, and I was amazed at how accepting he was. Then again, being a cancer patient, he must've known this was coming sooner rather than later.

     He grabbed onto my free hand, my other clutching the planner to my chest. I allowed him to hold my hand and squeezed his to offer a little reassurance, that everything would be fine.

     "There's a different place for everyone, there's a heaven waiting for each of you." I said, comforting him, the troubled expression of his face ebbed as he started to fade away, a cheerful smile replacing it.

     "Can I ask you one last question?" he asked, the majority of his body having already dissipated.

     "Sure."

     "What are you?"

     "I am a Reaper."

     His expression turned thoughtful for a moment, he was almost completely gone.

     "Thank you," he said to me, smile back on his healthy face.

     He faded away completely.

     I stayed in place for a few minutes, making sure he had actually passed through the gates of the afterlife and was on his way to his heaven. I flipped my planner back open.

     Taking out a red stamp, I pressed it down firmly over his name and information on the report and once again on my planner.

                     [COLLECTED]