“Children beg for their parents’ attention, the parents beg their master for food, and their master begs to God that today they can famish them even still. Why do you think humans like to be cruel to each other, Belle?” Death asked, floating above the ground and reading from a book, holding Belle’s hand below it.

  “I dunno,” Belle was drawing in the ashen dirt with a stick while holding Death’s hand. “Maybe they are afraid.”

  “Afraid?” Death asked curious. “Aren’t you more afraid of the constant pain and suffering you expose yourself to by not taking matters into your own hands?”

  “Dunno, I do not think that much. You do!”

  “Well,” Death placed the book inside its clothes, making it disappear, “I’m asking you these questions because I can’t answer them myself.”

  “And I can?”

  “That I do not know, it’s why I’m asking,” Death started walking and Belle followed with a bit of resistance, finishing her drawing. “But I suppose we can both find the answer to my question if we follow them.” Death pointed with a long, skinny finger towards people marching ahead on one of the broken streets. Belle didn’t want to get closer, but Death wrapped its left wing around Belle and reassured her. “Do not be afraid, they cannot see us as long as you hold my hand.”

  “Who are they?” Belle asked.

  “Humans, just like you,” Death got closer and closer, until they could make out their features. Some were missing limbs, others facial features or parts of their head, skin kept falling off of their arms, legs and exposed upper bodies, their jeans and pants barely holding on to their fading bodies.

  “Are they dead?”

  “Almost, the bombs didn’t kill them all, but it won’t be long until their time comes.”

  “Will I look like this when I die?”

  “Perhaps,” Death’s word made Belle shiver and it could see tears welling up in her eyes. “Or perhaps not. I suppose I can tell you that much.”

  “You promise?”

  Death gave the little girl a long stare. It couldn’t smile, but it felt amused. “I guess it’s a promise, you won’t become one of them,” Death said while pointing once more its finger towards the husks that were the humans. “Do you feel better now?”

  “I do, can we get closer?”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  “I am, but you said that if I hold your hand they can not see me.”

  “So you’re scared and also curious. That’s very much what I expect of humans.”

  Belle looked at a woman who had half of her head covered in long, beautiful hair, while the other half was burnt and exposed bone could be seen. The woman’s eyes were filled with raw emotion: rage, pain, sadness. She was a torrent of pain and misery who didn’t have a purpose, a life or goal anymore, just aimlessly wandering the scorched earth. Belle felt compelled to grab her hand, and when she reached for it, Death let go of Belle’s hand.

  Looking down, the woman could see the little girl that looked too ‘fine’. There were no missing features, the girl was still clean and didn’t walk like someone who was exposed to the dangers of the current world. With everything the woman knew about the current world, she found it impossible someone like that could just show up and grab her hand, not even thinking of the way she herself, the woman, looked and how it would scare any children. So the woman grasped Belle's hand firmer, thinking she was a ghastly apparition or a segment of her imagination, perhaps even her younger self, presented by Death before her to let her know her time is coming to a close.

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  Belle didn’t realize death had let go of her hand until she noticed the woman kept looking at her from time to time. Belle could still see Death as it stood next to her, so she felt assured that if it came to it, she could just grab Death’s hand once more and be fine from all the dangers. Though she couldn’t help but wonder why Death let go of her hand.

  “We’ll soon be there and I will see you no more,” the woman said with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for allowing me this, whoever you are.”

  “I’m Belle! Nice to meet you,” Belle said enthusiastically, forgetting all about appearances. Soon all the people marching forward arrived at a crater where the shell of a bomb lay in the middle, the woman not stopping once to assess the surroundings as she already knew what she wanted.

  Belle could see something at the very center of the crater, a boiling mass that looked and smelled from afar foul. She didn’t want to go closer, but the woman’s hand dragged her on. The gentle touch of the woman was replaced by a harsh grip which wouldn’t let go of Belle no matter what. Belle started crying and soon screaming, though no one gave her any thought, continuously marching towards the pool of disease and death.

  “Death!” Belle cried, and what was her cry for help was instead mistaken for a chant, that soon all the other people whispered, said or even yelled. They were all celebrating death that was soon to come and free them of their agonizing existence. Belle couldn’t understand why everyone wanted to die or why in such a manner. Death knew though.

  “Humans,” Death said while still walking by Belle’s side, not grabbing her hand. “So self centered and selfish that they are willing to drag even the memory of decency into a conglomerate of filth. They do not treasure you or themselves, what they treasure is their selfishness, what they decide is just and unjust towards themselves. They never care about others, only when it serves them. As soon as you’re a liability, they either toss you aside or drag you down into hell with them.” Death walked ahead and stopped by the pool of death, looking at Belle and speaking low. “You are not any different from them, Belle. As soon as you saw the danger that will result in your death, you immediately wanted to let go of the woman’s hand, save yourself and let her die. Because, why die with her? What’s the point in that? You don’t deserve this, do you?”

  “Help me, please!” Belle begged while trying everything she could to free herself. Biting, spitting, kicking, scratching. Nothing worked, the woman suffered far worse for far longer, there wasn’t even a reaction to what Belle did to her.

  “Humans for so long thought themselves better than animals. Smarter, wiser, more cunning, of a higher understanding. Yet when faced with death, none of that is present. There are only the innate natural reactions of screaming and fearing what’s ahead, perhaps just articulated better.” By the dozens all those people let themselves fall into the pool and their bodies dissolved rapidly, with some of them feeling the burning sensation of death for a few moments before succumbing to it. When it was time for the woman to jump in, she waited there, Belle still struggling to free herself.

  “When I was a girl, all I wanted was to wear the prettiest, coolest clothes. My mom died when she gave birth to me, so my dad had to raise me by himself. He always did a good job, even though we didn’t have much to go by. He even sewed together clothes for whatever my little mind came up with just so I could be happy,” Belle stopped her screeching and struggle, fixating her eyes on the pool of death ahead of her and focusing on what the woman said. “He was kind, gentle and a most earnest man. But then he fell ill, and because he wanted me to never have a hard time, he never bought the medicine he needed, and in the end he died. I was twelve at the time, and I was supposed to go to an orphanage, but because of the neighbourhood we lived in, I was picked off the street by a local gang and put to please men older than my dad. I only screamed the first time, then they beat me so hard that I never once again screamed in pain. Those days blend together in my head with the smell of cigars, alcohol and the pained screams of other girls that they forced there, only silenced by the cracking of bones or gunshots. How many times I wanted to kill myself, I wonder? I had lost count. Even before this, when I had a proper job and my future looked bright, I still couldn’t forget all those dreadful days.”

  Death stood by, listening to everything the woman said, and while Belle also listened, she couldn’t understand everything she said.

  “My only glimmer of hope were the clothes. Even when I was put to please those men, I was always wearing those pretty, cool clothes I always liked. I didn’t understand it until later, but wearing them carried what I had lost: kindness, earnestness, gentleness. The things that made my dad who he was, those clothes carrying them wherever I went, whatever I did.” The woman let go of Belle’s hand and looked down at what fate awaited her. “If I had known this is all that awaited me, I would’ve killed myself when my dad died. That way I wouldn’t have to carry these foul, miserable memories with me at the end.”

  Belle stood there, not thinking much but feeling the dread and sadness that engulfed the woman’s heart. She looked at the woman, seeing tears flowing down her burnt face. “It’s okay,” Belle said, grabbing the woman’s hand. The woman turned her head slowly, seeing the little girl that she too once was, in clothes she would’ve loved to wear had she been that age once more.

  “Thank you, Belle,” the woman said, taking Belle’s hand off and letting herself all into the pool. “Thank you,” she said once more as her flesh burned away and her bones melted. Belle reached for her, almost falling into the pool, but Death was there to grab her hand and catch her before that could happen.

  “It would seem I was wrong, perhaps,” Death said.