I sit in the corner and stare at the wall. I've spent what seems like hours beyond number staring at this wall for no reason I can imagine. It's just a bare wall, not so much as a poster on it. The wall can't give me the answers I need. Nothing can give me the answers I need. Why do I go on? Is life worth living?

I've held a razor to my wrist before, eyes clouded by tears. I'd sit like that, with a razor at my wrist for hours. I'm a coward. After hours of living in wait for death, I drop the razor and sob some more. I'm so pathetic. I'm overweight, I'm ugly, I have no job, no true friends, and my family hates me. I haven't picked up the razor yet today. Should I? No. I don't want to move, even more so than I don't want to live.

I close my eyes and try to think up an answer of my own. I go on because I'm a coward, and life is most definitely not worth living. I've done nothing wrong, and life mocks and plays its evil games with me anyway. I wish something could just give me answers, but I don't believe in that fairy tale shit.

I get up and walk towards where I dropped the razor yesterday when I notice that I'm not alone in the apartment. I see a thin, pale, gorgeous woman, dressed all in black with an ankh necklace hanging down to her breasts. She's smiling at me, and she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"Planning to enter my realm early, Roy?" the woman asked in a perky voice. "Are you sure that that's what you want?"

"Planning to enter my realm early, Roy?" her question repeated itself a few times in my head. The ankh necklace... "enter my realm early, Roy"... Death! That's who this woman was, somehow I just knew! Death! I've heard folklore about death being this hooded skeleton with a scythe who takes you away when you die. I've also heard from people I actually know the truth, and have read in comic books that Death, in actuality is a gorgeous woman, somebody worth dying for. I stopped my movement towards where the razor lay. My heart skipped a beat. Most beautiful woman I'd ever seen... Death... "enter my realm early, Roy?" Everything was happening too fast; too many things were going to my head. "She knows my name!" I thought. "This gorgeous woman knows my name!" This was obvious, I soon realized, of coarse she knows my name, she knows the name of everything that shall ever die. I was dumbfounded. I just stood there staring at this gorgeous woman, Death, not knowing what I could possibly say.

Death held out her hand. "Take my hand, Roy. Don't be afraid, it's not your time now."

I walked to Death slowly, and took her hand. As soon as our hands touched, we were no longer in my apartment.

Death and I were now in a barren wasteland. The sky was blood red. I could see a black tower far in the distance, but the way the horizon slanted far ahead, and with the red sky distorting the barren plain, the tower could be anywhere from one mile to a thousand miles away. "Where the Hell are we?" I inquired of her, the disbelief in my voice making me sound like a fool.

Death giggled, a cute smile showing at the sides of her lips. "Good choice of words," was all she said.

I thought about what I had said, and I realized what she meant. "Oh shit, we're in Hell! Why have you taken me here, Death? I can't end up here, I've done nothing wrong!"

Death's smile turned into a frown. "This would be where you end up if you go with your original plans for this evening, Roy."

As we stood there, a huge, red skinned demon with three hugely muscled arms, all of which holding a whip walked past us. Following the demon were three people, one of whom was pushing a gurney with a fourth person on it. All the people seemed oblivious to our existence. On closer inspection, the grim troupe resembled corpses more closely than people. The person at the head of the troupe, a man, was walking blind, for he had a bullet hole between his eyes, and blood was still coming out, getting into his eyes and dripping down his face. It was a wonder he could see well enough to walk without tripping. The next person in the troupe, a woman this time walked with a dazed expression on her pale blue face, a huge gash in either arm, a drop of blood dripping out of either wound every few seconds, her skin a pale blue due to loss of blood. The third in the troupe, the one pushing the gurney didn't push it straight, for he couldn't see straight, as his head rolled around on his shoulders with every step, his neck not aligned correctly anymore, not being able to support the head. The one on the gurney seemed oblivious to the gurney's bizarre pattern of rolling and bumping, as she just seemed to be asleep, and nothing would disturb ever her.

Death pointed to the troupe, her face grimmer than it had been in all the time I'd spent with her. "Those are suicides," she said. "If you'd read the bible, you'd know there's no place in Heaven for suicides. Its sad, really, so many people are trapped in Hell for eternity for one mistake, one action. For suicides, the punishment is even worse than most, you see, Roy. For them, they must live for all eternity with the pain of how they killed themselves. If I didn't distract you from going for that razor, you'd be looking like this woman here with the blue skin and slashed wrists. You'll end up here if you don't end your suicidal tendencies."

I thought for a moment, not saying anything. I thought about how life was hell enough as is, and how I'd have to live through it in agony, or forever be in agony here in Hell if I ever tried to end my life prematurely. I thought about how one moment I'm in my living room and the next moment I'm in Hell watching suicides go by. I thought about this and I cried. "It's not fair," I said, my voice quivering, breaking into tears. I repeated myself, tears rolling down my cheeks, "it isn't fair!"

Death looked back at me and nodded, a frown showing on her regularly perky face. "I think you've seen enough, Roy," Death said, taking my hand. Suddenly, we were back in my apartment. "Do you see where you have erred, Roy?"

I grabbed Death by the shoulders. She seemed shocked more than angered by the sudden contact. "No, I don't see it, Death! It isn't enough! You've shown me punishment eternal, but I'm already being punished for no reason! It isn't enough! Please," I sobbed, releasing her; "there must be another way out." I turned away from her and returned to my corner of the room. "I'm afraid it can never be quite that easy, Roy." She said, sympathy showing in abundance through her voice. "I've met your kind before. I can only advise you. On top of that, you have to help yourself."

"I don't know how," I sobbed, throwing my arms around my knees and resting my head.

Death walked towards the window, towards the drawn curtains, my way to shut the world out. "You can start," she said, putting her hands on the curtains, "by saying hello to the world!" With that, she opened the curtains, and what little sunlight remained outside flooded into the room. Death motioned for me to stand by her.

I stood up and went to stand by Death at the window. Initially I squinted, for I hadn't seen sunlight in days, but eventually my sight adjusted and I could look outside without pain. I could see the sun setting over the buildings of Manhattan, turning the sky red, purple, and orange in a multitude of tints. "Its beautiful," I finally managed to utter.

Death's eyes drifted downward, to a certain street corner, close to my apartment building. Two lovers walked down that street hand in hand. Children ran around happily in an intense game of tag. "Tell me what you see down there Roy."

I examined the street below me, and couldn't help but wonder about why my life had gone so wrong. The lovers walking down the street seemed to be completely engrossed with each other, barely realizing the rest of the world was there. The children playing tag seemed to be having the time of their young lives, squealing and playfully shouting. "I see," I finally managed to say, my voice sounding very quiet, "complete and utter joy."

Death looked back at me and smiled. It seemed that I had given the answer she was looking for. "Where did you lose the concept of joy?" Death inquired of me. "Why can't you accept the world?"

I turned away from the window. "I have no problem accepting the world, Death," I said, looking down at my feet, feeling deeply sorry for myself. "The world has a problem accepting me."

"You've just given up trying!" Death shouted, eyeing me thoughtfully. "How do you know you won't be accepted if you're too much of a coward to even leave your apartment? Go outside, for God's sake! Meet somebody, start a conversation, do SOMETHING, you worthless excuse for a man!" Death stopped shouting for a moment and suddenly looked abashed. "I'm sorry I shouted at you like that Roy, I usually don't get mad, but your case is just pathetic! Why did you turn into the sad and lonely person you are now?"

"Because... because I've tried all those things before, Death. Many times, I've tried to make friends, find love, gain acceptance, but every time I only meet rejection, friends turn away, love mocks me, and life has cursed me. I mean, LOOK AT ME! I'm not a pleasant sight, I've been curse since birth!"

Death reached into her pocket, pulled out a small case, and opened it revealing a small cosmetic mirror. "Afraid immortality can't conquer vanity," she giggled. She handed me the mirror. "What do you see, Roy?"

"I see myself," I said, looking into the mirror. My face hadn't been shaven in a week by my looks; I was scruffy like a dog. My teeth were yellowing from not having had care to brush them. My hair was all over the place, for I hadn't so much as washed it in days. I hadn't done much else, sanity or otherwise for close to a week now.

"You may look ugly now," Death said, "I won't compliment you when you don't deserve it, especially when you think so strongly that you don't deserve it, but that's just due to you're depression, I bet you haven't showered in a week! You reek of sweat! I wanted you to take a walk with me outside, show you the world, but you are completely unpresentable! Luckily though, I have the resources to remedy that." Death snapped her fingers and there suddenly appeared a hole in the wall, in my favorite corner to sulk in. Out of the hole in the wall stepped two women, dressed in spotless white robes, both of who were carrying various cosmetics and toiletries.

Roy turned around to question why these two women were here, but she wasn't there. "Death?" Roy didn't hear a reply from Death; he did however here the sound of running water. He walked to the bathroom, being followed by the two women, whom he had no idea who they were one of who was on either side of him.

He found Death in the bathroom, fiddling with the controls for the bathtub, trying to find an ideal temperature. She snapped her fingers again, a smile spreading across her face.

Hearing the sound of Death's snap, the two women grabbed at Roy's clothing, one grabbing for Roy's shirt, the other for his pants. "Hey, cut that out!" Roy shouted as the women continued to undress him. "What is this about?" Although this invasion of his privacy and body was most unexpected and a bit degrading, he couldn't help but enjoy it somewhat, it had been over a year since he had really felt a woman's touch, especially in such an intimate manner. Roy could however take a hint. Naked now, he stepped into the bathtub.

Death, for modesty's sake had been facing the other way the whole time while the other women undressed Roy, and now proceeded to give him a sponge bath, then to shave his beard for him. "That wasn't too bad, was it Roy?" Death asked, turning back to face him.

"Not bad at all," Roy said, greatly enjoying this heavenly treatment, a smile crossing his lips (the first time he'd smiled in months). He began to wonder if this was a preview of how he'd be treated in Heaven if he let life run its course and kill him when it was time. He wouldn't have been surprised if this premonition was true, since Death had already shown him a preview of Hell.

The two women grooming Roy finished their job and left the room, to go back to their portal in the wall, or so Roy imagined. Death left the room too, throwing a towel and clothing into the room, as she said she'd be waiting outside.

Roy sighed, saddened that the grooming was over, but he knew he didn't deserve to be pampered by gorgeous women forever. He got out of the bathtub, dried himself with the towel, and promptly began to get dressed. Before he left the room to rejoin Death, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked better than he had in years.

Death examined Roy for a moment as he stepped out of the room, and nodded in approval. "You look great! Now you can join me in a walk outside!"

Before Roy could object, (not that he would at this point) Death grabbed him by the arm, threw the door to his apartment open with her free hand, and stormed outside, dragging Roy behind her.

After a short elevator ride down to street level, Death led Roy outside the building, giving him the first breath of fresh air he'd had for days. "What now?" Roy asked, not sure if Death would lecture him right here, or lead him to a specific place.

"You're taking me out for a drink!" Death shouted, not caring who heard, continuing her walk, dragging Roy along with her.

"A drink? I don't have enough cash on me to visit a bar, especially not enough cash for the both of us!"

Two men walked past Roy and Death as they were talking. "The poor guy!" One of the men said to the other. "He seems to think he's actually talking to someone!"

As they walked, Roy realized that he had a question for Death that had been eating at him for a while now. "Death, I'm just wondering, I always expected that if I ever encountered the embodiment of death that you'd be grim and depressing. How is it that you're so perky?"

Death grinned at Roy. "That's a great question, I've thought about it to myself as well. I think that me being surrounded by the dead and suicidal all my life, if I didn't act perky and try to see the bright side of things, I'd go nuts, like my cousin Madness! I have to see the bright side of things, and that's not too hard, since I know where most people go, I know it's not a dark afterlife waiting for them." After five minutes of walking and dragging, Death and Roy entered a small bar with an atmosphere that seemed to consist solely of sweat and smoke. Death led Roy to a stool right up at the counter and said to him, "don't worry about paying, I've got that covered!" Death stared at the bartender for a moment, not even saying anything. The bartender brought Roy a mug of beer. Roy didn't even question how this came to happen.

Roy took a long sip from his drink and then looked over at Death, who sat next to him silently. "Well? You brought me all the way over here, aren't you going to tell me more? Or are you here, simply to watch me drink? Isn't this where you're supposed to tell me that life's worth living, and suicide is the worst mistake one could possible make?"

Death would have said something if somebody else didn't approach Roy and start saying her words, or ones that would help them for her.

A woman walked up behind Roy. "Roy?" she asked. "Roy Treverson?"

Roy looked over at Death first, who was smiling back at him, then he turned on his stool to face the woman who was talking to him. "Yes, that's me," he replied. "And you are?"

The woman (a short, somewhat plump perky looking woman with light, shoulder length brown hair) smiled. "I was hoping you'd remember me, but I guess not," she said, sitting down at the stool next to Roy, where Death was just sitting. Death wasn't sitting there anymore. Roy looked around, but didn't see Death anywhere. "My name is Cynthia Russell," the woman said. "We went to College together!"

An hour passed, and Roy and Cynthia caught up on old times, told their tales of joy or woe, and what they were up to these days. Roy didn't tell Cynthia of all the times he'd tried to kill himself. From time to time, Roy would look around the bar, but he still didn't see Death.

After another half hour of talking, Roy was starting to fondly remember many days spent with Cynthia in school, making fun of the professor behind his back, and working on projects together. They'd lost track of each other after graduation. Cynthia asked if Roy wanted to go back to her apartment, have some coffee instead of beer (she didn't drink anyway.) Roy accepted her offer.

As Roy and Cynthia got up to leave, he finally saw Death again; she was standing by the door smiling at him. Roy understood why Death had abandoned him at the bar, and why she stood there now. Death's eyes and smile said enough. "I think you can help yourself now, Roy." That said without words, Death vanished.

As Roy left the bar, Cynthia's arm in his, he thought on Death's parting message. He agreed with her.

Epilogue One

Death was very pleased with herself. She had steered a good man away from suicide, and saved him an eternity of agony. She liked Roy; he was very nice and polite, just too depressing. Death couldn't give all the credit of saving Roy to herself though, she knew there had been a bit of interference. Cynthia showing up at the bar suddenly (she didn't even drink!) just seemed too perfect. She knew there was only one who could have set that up so perfectly. That in mind, Death went to see her cousin, Destiny.

Destiny's realm was not hard for her to find, not for a relative of his anyway. Any of Destiny's relatives could find his realm by merely wishing to be there, but mortals could spend a lifetime searching for Destiny's realm, and not find so much as a clue. His realm was one giant maze, varying randomly from mirror maze to hedge maze, to anything one could imagine. This suited Destiny quite well; a maze was the perfect personification of him. One turn in any maze could determine or change one's whole Destiny. If you came to an intersection where you could go one of four ways, you choose one and three alternate destinies are created, all of which showing what would have happened if you went the other way. If a mortal found himself in Destiny's realm, he'd die of old age searching for the center.

Death however, would never be lost in Destiny's realm, for all relatives of Destiny were welcome, and a light guided them to the center.

The center of Destiny's realm was surprisingly bland. All that was contained in the room was a throne were Destiny sat, a reading lamp, and a few bookcases, containing the life stories of all who would ever be born, all things that had a destiny.

"Ah, greetings, cousin!" Destiny exclaimed in a jolly tone as he noticed Death's presence in his realm. Destiny was the oldest being in the entire universe, for if even one creature was created before his whole life was plotted out, there would be no set of rules for it. Destiny's age didn't show, but then neither did Death's, or any of the other incarnations. Destiny looked to be in his forties at the oldest, laugh lines showing at the sides of his mouth, on his clean-shaven face. Destiny took off his reading glasses and closed the book he was reading, materializing a bookmark out of thin air to hold his place. "What brings you to my realm, cousin?"

"You helped me save the life of Roy Treverson, didn't you Destiny? Its not like I'm not thankful for your help, but I could have guided him to the light on my own."

"I was just trying to lighten your load of those to be taken to the other side, my cousin." Destiny said, a smile spreading across his face. In fact, I lightened your load this day by two! You see, if Cynthia Russell hadn't gone into that bar, she would have been hit by a car as she jaywalked across the street. I was helping you, my cousin, and those two mortals as well."

Death nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Destiny." She said, doing a curtsy. "I am not without gratitude, but I must be going, I'm a very busy woman."

Epilogue Two, 42 Years Later

Roy Treverson, now an old man at 71 years old lay in what he knew would be his deathbed. He never expected to live to be this old, especially not with how awful his life had been over four decades earlier. Cynthia, his wife of thirty years had died a few years before, and for the second time in his life Roy Treverson had lost the will and desire to live.

Roy realized that he was not alone in the room. He saw a face that he had not seen for forty-two years. "I never got to thank you all those years back for saving my life, Death. Have you come to take me away now? Is it finally my time?"

"Yes Roy, it is time," Death said as she approached Roy's bed. "Are you ready to go?"

"I have lived a long and fulfilling life Death, and I owe that all to you. You guided me through the events that steered me away from suicide, and to finding my future wife. I can't thank you enough. I wouldn't even consider holding you back from your job. I... I am ready."

"Then take my hand, Roy." Death said, extending her arm.

Roy took a few deep breaths and spent a few seconds reflecting on his life. He smiled, sat up, extended his arm, and took Death's hand.

The doctors came in to check on Roy Treverson a few minutes later to find that his heart had stopped beating, his lifeless body looking completely at peace, its eyes closed, arms folded, and a smile across his lips. Thus, Destiny closed the book on Roy Treverson.