This Wasn't a Love Story but A Story of Death

"Death," I called out his name just before the next memory was about to start.

Death turned his back to face me, looking a bit perplexed. Because of this, the In-Between didn't shift its shape to the location of the next destination. We were still standing in the middle of the darkness.

"Yes?"

I opened my mouth but closed it immediately. I looked away, tutting.

"What's wrong, Evangeline?" Death looked a bit worried. "You're acting a bit weird."

"Don't you think the previous two memories were weird?" I asked, at last.

Death blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean." I struggled to put my thoughts into words; it took me a while before I spoke again. "I was an honor student…"

"As well as a delinquent?" Death continued for me.

I nodded, my face scrunching up as if the words didn't add up.

Because it didn't.

Death hummed as if contemplating my words.

"Not really." He shrugged.

My gray eyes dilated.

"Really?"

Death shrugged.

"I have seen many things, Evangeline." He said it as if he were talking to a mere child. But compared to Death, I might as well be. "I have seen stranger things before."

"But you acted so horrified when you saw me smoking a cigarette!" I pointed it out. "And you acted as if I was hilarious when swearing at Boss!"

"But it was!" Death chuckled, only to stop immediately when he saw my expression. "I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing because I was so surprised that you were so different from when you were in middle school.

"Well, you already warned me before that you had a shift in personality when your high school started because of the incident with... What's her name again, Boggart?"

I responded with a nod, but I didn't indulge Death with the reaction that he wanted.

Death frowned.

"I was surprised," he repeated. "But I wasn't disappointed in you." He gave me a sad smile. "That's what you wanted to hear, right?"

I straightened up, quite shocked that Death knew precisely what was in my heart that I myself didn't know. No, I knew about it but couldn't put it in a concrete concept in my mind.

"For the longest time, that's what you wanted to hear." Death continued. "You were a people-pleaser back in middle school, Evangeline. Your need for validation will always hunt you until you grow up. Until your death."

"Until my death," I echoed.

Death nodded.

"I don't claim to be a human expert but judging from how your personality jumped from a poor bullied girl to actually being the bully yourself, I know you were suffering from an internal conflict."

"Internal conflict?"

"Yes, Evangeline, an internal conflict." Death said. "Even as a delinquent, you wanted to still be an honor student because of your people-pleasing tendencies. If I were in your position as a thug, I wouldn't have cared about my grades anymore. But you did. You did because you thrive on people's admiration and praise. That's just what you are.

"But at the same time, you wanted to establish that you were no longer the girl you were before: someone anybody could step on. So you took up this persona that you were a strong girl, so strong that you hurt those who got near to you."

I didn't even notice, but something was trickling down my cheeks. I touched it and realized that it was tears.

"I've never felt heard like this before," I sobbed against my will.

How strange. The first time I truly felt heard was when I was finally dead. This realization caused me to cry even harder, not trying to suppress the sounds I'd been trying to conceal.

Gosh, if the high school Evangeline saw me right now, she would've bitch-slapped me and tell me to woman up! But she wasn't. And I was no longer the strong, wild child I was in high school. I'm just the current me.

I'm just Evangeline Vermillion, the college girl who killed herself out of sheer desperation, and not Evangeline Vermillion, the delinquent-honor student that will fuck you up.

Death walked closer to me. I was about to ask what he planned to do when he raised his hand and cupped my cheeks. His hand was warm, and I found myself resting my weight on it.

He smiled gently. It was so soft that my heart immediately melted at the sight.

"You know why I was acting irritable a while ago?"

I blinked, and my tears continued to fall.

"Because it annoyed me," Death said. "That you had to change yourself to fit in. To survive in the high school world. You were too young, Evangeline. Yet you had to act like you were stronger than a thug with a knife."

I couldn't help but laugh at his words, but he continued.

"It annoyed me because I was jealous."

"What?" I looked at him, confused.

"I'm jealous of Klaus or Boss that they were there for you at this age. And I only met you when your heart was no longer beating."

"Would it make a difference if you did?" I asked, removing my face from his hand.

"Oh, Evangeline," The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. "It will make all the difference if I did."

For some reason, I only noticed that Death was close to me and my face. I couldn't help but look down at his lips, which were pale as his skin. I looked at his eyes and saw this weird glint in his crimson eyes again.

"I wish I were a human fated to meet you and make you feel that you didn't need to change yourself just to adapt to this eat-or-be-eaten world. I wouldn't have done what they did."

"And what is that?" I whispered.

"Contribute to your demise."

Then it hit me.

Where I was. Who he was. What was happening.

I was reminded, yet again, that this wasn't a love story.

This was a story of death.