“So, do you have anything from your past?”
Death and I sit on his dinner table with the Help Desk book in front. Both of us are antsy to get away from each other so we read each sentence with careful eyes.
“No, they took my things with them,” I reply, sighing.
“Who are ‘they’?” Death asks, sipping on coffee.
“My family, they all moved to a different state. They took all my stuff with them,”
Death nods. “That’s good. So, you have nothing from your past,”
I shake my head. “You even took my clothes when I changed into these clothes. There is nothing left,”
“Do you want to have them?”
“What?”
Death leans in. “Do you want to have your things?”
I stay silent and wait for my emotions to speak to me. Yes, there in my heart is a dull ache that wants all my posters and my diary. I want my diary more than anything. I filled it up at age thirteen. It’s crazy to see how much you mature.
“Yes, I do,”
Death snaps the book shut. “That’s your first mistake. You have to unattach yourself from all of it. You already have gotten rid of it physically. Now, you’ve got to get rid of it mentally as well. You must let it go,”
“That’s easier said than done,” I say, my chest tightening up.
“You want to move on? Do you want to break this circle? You said you wanted to,”
“I do!”
“Then, you have got to let go of those material things. It has nothing to do with you now. It isn’t even useful. Tell me the things you want,”
I lower my eyes. “My vinyl record collection,”
“Well, you can also get some more. You can just stop thinking about the ones you had. You can replace them,”
“Yes, I guess so,” I say.
“From now on, let’s not think about those records, okay? Give me the next thing,”
“My diary,” I tell him. “I freaked out when I thought my mom threw it away,”
“Your diary? Why would you be attached to that? Is this the only thing you can’t get rid of?”
“Well, I can give everything else up. I just want to read it one more time,” I start “But I can get over it. I can try,”
Death watches me. “You didn’t answer my question. Why would you be attached to it?”
I pause trying to put words to the swirling emotions in my chest. “I am scared. I am scared of forgetting who I was and what I liked and cared about. It is comforting knowing what I used to be and what I used to do. It makes me feel less dead, less empty. The way I died…actually, let’s not talk about that. I just want to remember who I was. I’m forgetting my past life bit by bit and it’s scaring me,”
These words I just spoke are the words I’ve only related to Jess. I figure that Death is someone that is going to come and go. He is just a helper, someone who doesn’t stick around for long.
Death listens to me and twists his lips before straightening his back. “It sounds like forgetting yourself is a good thing,”
He appears more solemn than before. His god awful scowl is subdued and his eyebrows look less angry. “You aren’t the same person you were. You are someone completely different and that’s okay,”
When Death speaks, it’s like he’s speaking more to himself than me. His eyes are glazed over and he floats away in his thoughts.
“Let’s get to bed,” Death starts, snapping out of his trance. “We can go to my guest room with the twin beds. Do you sleep?”
“Yes,” I tell him. “I like it. I do feel kind of weird though. I just feel off.”
Death nods. “It’s probably because of the time zone,”
“The time zone?”
“Yes, CEST,” Death explains “You were functioning on PST,”
“Which time zone is CEST? Where are we? We aren’t in the States?”
“No, we’re not. We’re in Germany,”
“Germany?!” I say, bolting up. “We’re in Germany? We’re in Europe?”
I scurry to the window peering out into the snowy landscape. It’s nighttime and nothing can be seen. I have never traveled outside the United States before. I gawk at the new surroundings. “Where in Germany are we? In Berlin?”
“No, we’re in my hometown,” Death says, not scowling at all “Dresden,”
“You’re German?”
“Yes, in human terms,” Death tells me.
I furrow my eyebrows. “Hallo, wie geht es dir?”
“Mir geht es gut und dir?”
“Umm…Hallo, wie geht es dir?”
Death shakes his head. “Let’s just head to bed,”
“Can you teach me German? I started learning it because I was thinking of moving here,”
Death and I go down a wider hall. The carpet fades into wooden tiles.
“Why were you trying to move?”
“I was thinking of moving here because Jason wanted to move to Germany. He was obsessed with the place. I was thinking I could teach…”
I trail off. Oh yeah, I can’t do any of that.
“…Nevermind,”
Death stays quiet as we walk down the hall. He opens the room to a basic room that is up to date but isn’t heavily decorated. He sheds his jacket and his shoes, settling into his bed. He claps twice and the lights go off.
Darkness overcomes me and I’m not talking about the lights. I drag my way to the bed with my feet towing after me. I feel for the bed reaching out. I uncover the blankets and dive into bed.
I try to glance at Death and make sure he is sleeping. Once I am sure, I allow myself to weep in a quiet manner. It is hard. It’s so so hard. It’s so painful and it’s hard to be happy. I can’t live like this. I close my eyes and picture my diary. A sad nostalgia overcomes me, causing me to shake. I take a deep breath and let the diary go with all my feelings. I picture the purple fluffy cover being dropped into a well in my mind. I take out a match in my imagination and throw it down there with it.
My heart hurts as the flames rage below but somehow I know I’ve done it. I have done the first step of moving on. I’ve let go of my past things with my mind, body, and soul.
It was too painful to hold on to.
_____
Whew.