Through the Eyes of Death

Passiveobservher
3 min readMar 8, 2024

I know not to whom I might be sent

I stood beside him, not particularly enjoying the chaos unfolding before my eyes but I didn’t have a choice, did I?

In a few minutes, he would be in my arms and we would proceed on a journey, the great journey.

Tribute to Jordan Dakari.

Photo by Sammie Chaffin on Unsplash

He was not the brightest of people that I had been assigned to but boy did he have guts.

He was one of those people that I had come for multiple times but somehow always managed to escape narrowly from my arms.

He always found his way back.

Well, not this time.

I watched as he tried to hold onto anything as the water began filling his organs through his various headholes.

His struggle became less, weaker, the force was too strong.

It was at that moment that he spotted me. Our eyes locked.

He knew.

I’m not particularly allowed to interfere with the natural but I remember the day I had to pry Jordan’s sister away from his arms.

The boy just wouldn’t let go. Pumping and Pumping air into the already breathless girl.

The colour of the sky was grey, she did not deserve to leave this world so soon. All of nature mourned and I knew she was such a sweet girl because when I finally got to carry her away, she smiled while walking towards me.

In great sorrow, he swore to kill me.

Me.

I happily awaited our faceoff.

Those moments came flashing before Jordan’s eyes, his whole life flashed before his eyes.

At least I get to see the moments and people they really cherished.

Jordan did not deserve to die like that.

He fought against my brother — life and almost won. Almost. Having been born into a humble large family of 10, he never started the competition fair.

Hungry, beaten, cold, emotionally isolated, terribly clothed, and homeless a few times.

He had been many things, a thief, an apprentice, a street fighter, and now, a salesman.

All his life was filled with “NO”, but he was almost there now, I could taste it. Too bad that I was sent to fetch him.

He was murdered.

Not by a stranger but by his friend and business partner.

If he hadn’t been drugged before the abominable, I was sure that I would have left without Jordan.

He was so persistent and ruthless, no one could hold him down.

I stood over them, watching as the bitter and envy-driven man kept holding Jordan’s head beneath the pool.

Funny how humans claim to love my brother but push the ones they love toward me.

Selfish and ungrateful lot.

The sky was orange. Not the orange that you see in a cool sunset, the orange that erupts from a firey place.

At last, Jourdan let go and I almost choked.

I never thought this day would come, he fought hard, in life and in death.

I guess all your struggles can end now Jourdan, I said internally as I guided him onto his great journey.

I’m reading the book: The Book Thief, which was also written in Death’s POV. It’s something I found interesting and thought to try out.

Till next time,

Love and light, and have a beautiful International Women’s Day.

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Passiveobservher

Welcome to my medium page, I'm genuinely glad to have you here. I just began writing recently with hopes of sharing knowledge with you.