For those who grieve.

The bed was soft. Large warm blankets covered me up to my chin. My body was achy but I could hardly feel the pain as the morphine ran coolly through my veins. All around me I could see the blurred outlines of my family. Mom was clutching my hand so hard it would have hurt, but at this point I barely noticed. Dad was by my feet and I knew from his posture that he had the most heart broken look on his face. My brothers and sisters were standing a few feet away, lost and afraid.

I could feel the sadness permeate the room as a tear rolled down my cheek.

I had sensed him the moment I woke up. Observing silently in the corner of the room. There was darkness about him, and yet I felt so relieved to know that he was here. His black clothing was a contrast to the white lab coat of the doctor by my side.

My eyes were transfixed as I watched him slowly move toward me. His presence parted through the unaware crowd. A specter in every sense of the word.

His hand was cool as he gently brushed my fevered cheek. I looked into his warm eyes and spoke softly, "Will it hurt?" Distantly I heard the voice of the doctor and parents cries, but I was focused on the man in front of me.

He smiled and shook his head. The pain was leaving my body and I felt so very light. Quietly he took me into his serene embrace. I sighed softly as the Angel of Death bore me away.