—

Under the sparkling paleness of the moon, a girl lays peacefully in the field of beautiful wildflowers surrounded by large, green evergreens, the dew on their petals glittering in the light. Her white dress lay spread around her, its short sleeves doing nothing to protect from the biting cold, though she doesn’t feel the temperature, or even the flowers underneath her. 

While laying there, staring up at the sky and its barely visible stars, the girl wonders where her family is, and how they are doing. She lets her mind run free, which she learned to never do…back then. 

The girl knows what she is, and where she is going, but she can’t bring herself to let go just yet. 

Watching from the shadows of the trees, a figure watches the girl, eyes big and empty. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting. 

The girl would take a deep breath, if she could. She knows its time, but doesn’t want to have to never see her family again. To never see grass, taste food. Feel wind, smell flowers. She can’t even smell the flowers she’s laying on, but she remembers she had terrible hayfever as a human. 

She’s not immortal, she’s not human. She’s not supernatural exactly, but she’s definitely not powerless. She is, though, very important.

—

Upon her throne, dressed in her flowing black gown, sits the girl, crown on her head, something akin to boredom in her eyes. She rests her head on her hand.

She ponders, and she dreams. She knows she could have been human long ago, and she knows she is not the first. 

She is the reincarnation of Death, because everyone dies, even if they are Death itself.