//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Lasting Memories // by Boopy Doopy //------------------------------// Charley Baker was standing tall in front of Death himself, not surprised in the least that the time to leave his life behind had finally come. “You know,” Death said casually, “most creatures are surprised or afraid when they finally have to meet me. You, however, seem like you’re ready for it to be done. Explain that to me.” He sounded more like a surfer dude from Santa Monica than the grim reaper. He almost looked the part, too, with a dirty blonde perm, pointed nose, light skin, and a face filled with freckles. Even still, he wore a black as night scraggly hooded tunic and carried a large scythe, one larger than he was. More than that was the look in his eye, one that held disdain, almost anger, for Charley. It was a look that told him that he would end the conversation at a moment’s notice if he didn’t like what he heard.  “What’s there to explain?” Charley asked, crossing his arms. “Life sucks and the universe hates me. Or maybe God does, since I’m talking to you. Is that what this is?” “And why do you think that?” Death asked, not entertaining such an answer. “Do you think it’s our fault that you pushed people in your life away? That you burned bridges at every opportunity? Or perhaps it was the universe that caused you to do those things?” “Well it’s not like you or the universe or whoever the hell makes sure the world keeps turning made it any easier,” Charley argued. “I’m sure you know what I’m going through. It’s not like it’s ever been sunshine and roses for me. I was intentionally set up to fail at everything in life. You can’t blame me for being bitter.” “I can, and I will,” Death replied. “I’ve met one thousand, one million other creatures in your shoes, and worse, and almost all of them have shown more care to the people around them than you have. You’ve left nothing in your life to continue on your legacy, and now what? On your deathbed here today, where do you think you’ll go?” “Oh, rich, you’re gonna send me to hell, aren’t you. And why? Because I kept to myself? Because I didn’t bother people with my problems? I guess that makes me worse than Hitler, doesn’t it?” “You think this is about doing wrong?,” Death asked, scoffing at him. “Adolf Hitler didn't have to worry. Lord Tirek didn’t have to worry. King Shirofu and Idi Amin and Grogar and Tifla Tifla and nearly other major villain in the history of your world and others, both great and small– almost none of them had to worry about where death would take them. Saint Peter to Satan, we don’t care. All creatures to us are the same.” “What? Then why ask–” “Because you have not one person in your life who cares for you. Not one person who likes you. I struggle to find one person who’s willing to tolerate you. Not your parents, not your teachers, not even the nurses who took care of you near the end. No one wants to be around you or enjoys your presence.” “I had a wife! A kid! What about them? They liked me!” “What of them? Do you think they’re planning to go to your funeral? That you have to use like in past tense answers to you what they think of you now. They’re happier without you because you continuously push people away. To you, creatures are no different cattle. Only a way to meet one's ends, nothing more. It’s not how a soul is meant to live, and yet yours has just been suffocated in darkness and rejection and loneliness. There’s hardly a person in front of me at all.” The frustration and anger on Charley’s face slowly changed to worry and fear at what he heard. That couldn’t have been true, could it? He tried to think and see who he could say he was friends with, and came up empty. Even the list of people who talked to him was extremely short, less than ten names he could think of. None of them did when they didn’t have to, making sure to communicate the bare minimum amount with him possible. He knew this, but it never really hit him until he was standing in front of Death how bad off he was. “You can’t– you can’t say it’s all my fault I am who I am!” he argued. “You– if you’re Death, you probably know about me and how I feel,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed. “You can’t not know how hard it’s been. It’s always been hard, and it never stops! I mean, look at me! Just looking like this in front of you, I know you know how I feel. You’re just trying to tease me and show me what I never had!” “Oh? It’s how you felt that made you push people away?” “Yeah, it is how I felt. It’s how I feel, and working a dead end job, and having a kid too young, and not graduating, and awful parents, and– and… and getting fucking cancer before I’m even thirty five! How is all of that supposed to be fair?” He was screaming at the top of his lungs at Death by the time he was finished, looking him right in the eye, expecting a good reason. “It’s not fair,” Death told him. “It never is. It’s all luck of the draw whether you’re born to riches or rags, born with mental problems or dysphoria or disabilities or good people who take care of you. But that’s the tradeoff you made for existence.” “Then how can you get mad at me for–” “Because it’s not fair. It’s not fair for the child cast aside by those who should protect him before he’s ready to face the world. Not for the widow who has to live alone when her children die in front of her. Not for those who have to live a life of hunger and regret and sadness, for those who know nothing but war and suffering and abuse and torture and are killed before they’ve had a chance to live. You may have struggles, more than a few, but every creature has struggles. But almost every other creature, whether a saint or a demon, has others who care for them, whereas you do not.” Charley didn’t have a good response to what he heard, and it made him afraid. He tried again to think of one person in his life who cared about him, or at least he could say he cared about, but came up empty. “Not one?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “Not a one,” Death confirmed, pointing his scythe toward him. “It’s an issue, one with a solution I don’t think you’ll be terribly fond of.” “What… what’s that?” “Cutting you down right here where you stand and letting your existence end,” he said flatly. “There’s no way you’re getting through to the other side, not with the state your soul is in.” The tip of the scythe’s blade touched the center of Charley’s chest. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, trying to take a step back, unable to as his feet stayed frozen in place. “There has to be one person who cares about me.” “Believe me, I looked,” Death replied. “I scoured for ages trying to find somebody. How do you think you lasted so long in that hospital ward? I had to fight with them to let me have a chance to look for myself, tried to ask them to give you an extension so you could find somebody. You're not a monster disguised as a person, that much is easy to see. You should be worthy of something, but…” Death shrugged, continuing, "Unfortunately, this is just how it goes sometimes." With the words, he reached his scythe up over his head, ready to slice through Charley. “You can’t do this!” he shouted angrily, fearfully, shaking where he stood. “This isn’t fair!” “Like I said, it’s never fair. It’s not fair that I have to be the one who manages all of this, but here I am. Neither of us really gets a say in these things.” “Please!” he begged, holding his hands up in a pitiful attempt to shield himself from what would come. “There has to be something else you can do! Don’t let me end like this!” “I want you to know, this is going to hurt me much more than it’ll hurt you. I hope you can forgive me for this.” With the words, Death swung his scythe down at him. “Just give me a chance! I can make a friend if you give me a chance!” Charley closed his eyes, bracing for the impact of the scythe against his skull, but the impact never came. A second later, he opened them again, seeing Death watching him curiously, scythe in both hands, the blade tip a centimeter away from his head. “You think you can make one friend?” Death asked seriously, unmoving as he sent a powerful look his way. “Yes! I can!” Charley assured him, nodding up and down. “I just need a chance to! I can make a friend!” Death lowered his hands to his sides and sighed. “Well, I said before there’s hardly a person in front of me, but there’s still something there,” he spoke. “A little shimmer. Maybe we can…” Suddenly, he turned and walked away, heading quickly off to somewhere else. Charley didn’t know whether he should stay where he was or head after him, but a second later, he caught a faint wave of a hand, urging him forward. “Follow me,” Death instructed. Charley made his way after him, traveling through what, he didn’t know. A large expanse of nothingness he wanted to say, but it wasn’t quite that. There were faint, colorful clouds hanging in the air, ranging from bright green to deep purple to magnificent red to royal blue. It stretched out as far as the eye could see, seemingly unending in front of him. They all floated above him, moving in a uniform pattern, being lit by what, he didn’t know. “Right here,” Death said as they made their way to a door, behind it holding a thousand other doors to… somewhere. He imagined that old Disney movie, Monsters Inc, where each door led to some random kids bedroom. Except he bet these all led to other worlds just from the looks of them. How he knew that, he didn’t know. It was just a feeling he had. “Now where is it…” Death asked himself, putting a hand on his chin before starting forward. Charley followed behind him, walking for how long, he couldn’t say. It could’ve been minutes or weeks, but it didn’t make a difference. Time didn’t feel the same here, somehow. Death stopped abruptly in front of a door that looked like a thousand other doors they passed. No markings distinguished it from any others, and Charley wasn’t sure how he could tell the difference between this and the dozen other doors that surrounded it. “I’m not normally authorized to do this, but since you haven't turned out to be a serial killer or child abuser, I’ll consider your case special,” Death explained. “Through this door is a place that will give you a second chance at friendship. In fact, in my experience, it’s the easiest place to find friendship. I’ve never met one creature from this world who lacked creatures who cared for them. If you can’t find someone who cares about you here, you’ll find it nowhere else. “I’ll give you one week to make one friend. If you can’t find a friend in that time, then your soul is truly lost. I hope it's not, but suspect it already is.” “A week isn’t enough time to–” “A week is more than generous,” Death interrupted. “Any creature else going to Equestria would be able to pick up a friend in a minute. Be grateful I’m giving you this much time to prove yourself. I’m not sure how many others would’ve humored you.” “Where am I going? What the heck is Equestria?” Charley asked as the door opened. He could see through it, but not much. Only darkness and a few points of light slipping through. “You’ll find out in a second,” Death replied. “Consider this your last chance at forever. Make sure to spread your wings wide open, and soar.” With the words, he gave Charley a firm shove through the door.