by Johan Dahlberg

Created on: October 29, 2008

Death stared at me with his bulky, dark eyes. I just continued reading, pretending he wasn't there. He had already tried everything, and I had concluded that he wasn't going away anytime soon. The only thing to do was to ignore him. Maybe he'd give up sooner or later.

He'd been after me my whole life, that crook. It was like he was obsessed. A hopeless case of lovesickness, perhaps? He didn't seem to care about all the other happy souls out there, but saw only me, one of the few who had the will and strength to resist. During my lifetime the average global lifespan rose by 53 years.

In the beginning I was just a soul in the crowd, one of many minding my own business in what we call life, trying not to think of my judgment day; or perhaps not being old enough to do so. But by chance I was among those who received the short straw to be destined to die young. Nevertheless, at the hospital I fought back with everything I had, and won. At first he used the most brutal methods he had to get hold of me, but miraculously I always managed to escape with nothing more than a scare. But perhaps the credit wasn't mine entirely, but belonged to someone of a higher existence. Who knows?

Later, Death changed his tactics. His methods were slier and cunning was used rather than brutality. He tried to trick me into giving up the life I so decidedly clung to. It didn't make any difference.

I think it was at that point he took a fancy to me in particular. It had started out as a sport to try and pull me down with him, but now it was no longer bringing me down, but my mere presence that meant something to him. He tried flattery, flowers and chocolate, but no way was I going to let Death take me before I considered myself finished with life here on Earth.

"Why won't you come with me?" he wept one day. "I've tried everything."

"As long as I don't find you attractive I'm staying right here," I hissed back.

That silenced him, at least for a while.

At some point I grew old. It feels like such a long time ago now. Despite innumerous attempts Death still hadn't gotten hold of me, but with age I considered myself to have attained what I sought for as a normal, mortal human being. Perhaps it was time to move on? Once I had made up my mind it didn't take any great effort on Death's part. It was actually I who took the initiative.

In the end, Death got me at the age of 97. What happened next is up to you to find out one day.

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