Cursed by Death

Chapter 3

        "It's coronary artery disease," the doctor says.
        I gasp and grab Dad's hand. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, and then opens them.
        "Is it fatal?" he asks.
        The doctor sighs. "It... it can be."
        I let out a moan. Dad squeezes my hand tighter. "Can she come home?"
        "Not today. But tomorrow, yes. But she will need to take daily medication and rest often."
        I gulp. "Can- can we see her?"
        The doctor nods. "You have one minute." He opens a door.
        Mom lies in a big bed. She's awake. She smiles at me. "Hey, Callie."
        I burst into tears and hug her. "Mommy! How do you feel?"
        "I've felt better," she says with a laugh. I sniff and hold her hand. Dad holds the other. We sit in silence.
        The doctor clears his throat. "I'm afraid you must leave now," he says.
        I kiss Mom once more, and reluctantly follow Dad out of the room. We check out, and get into his car. The whole way home, we're quiet. When we reach our house, I get out of the door and slowly walk inside. I trudge up the stairs and into my room, where I collapse on my bed and fall asleep.
        *****************************
        In my dream, the Grim Reaper towers over me. He begins to speak.
        "Callista... you have failed." His voice is papery. It sounds like the wings of a thousand bats fluttering in the night.
        I swallow. "Failed what?"
        "My test." The Reaper hands me an object.
        My iPhone.
        I gasp. "Amber!"
        The Reaper nods. "She needed you. You laughed in her face. And so you are cursed."
        "But.. why me? Why did you test me?" I ask, searching the shadow of his hood for a face.
        "Life is being created all over the world. It takes energy to make it. Souls happen to be the perfect fuel."
        I'm sobbing. "When will it stop?"
        The Reaper laughs a long, dry laugh, like branches scraping a pane of glass. Everything begins to disintegrate...
        ******************************
        I sit up in bed, panting. I can still hear his laugh. I look over at the window, and realize that branches are scraping it, the source of the eerie sound.
        But something isn't right. My heart pounds as I notice something on my desk. I get up to get a closer look.
        It's a piece of paper, tinted gray. Only one word is written on it:
        "Cursed."