So Grim

The Death Mascot

"No one knows whether death is really the greatest blessing a man can have, but they fear it is the greatest curse, as if they knew well." - Plato

They say death lurks around in every corner. It follows you around like a creepy stalker, waiting patiently for that marvelous moment. That marvelous moment is when you seriously make that one wrong move. That's all it takes for death to come charging at you. One stupid move, and your soul would be gone forever.

At least that's how I depicted death.

I came from a family who deeply believed in superstitions. Most of them had a paranormal story to tell, except for me, since I had nothing to share, really. We have gathered around the living room almost every night, after dinner, and carefully listened to the stories being told by our grandfather, who, by the way, had a near death experience back in his early fifties. He said while he was struggling from a heart attack, death suddenly appeared before him and stuck its bony hand inside my grandfather's chest. He knew right there and then that his soul was about to be collected. According to gramps, death withdrew his hand out from my grandfather's chest and quickly disappeared out of thin air, right after he recited the Lord's prayer. He never got to see what death actually looked like, but he had lived to tell the tale.

Since I was a kid, and way before gramps had even told us about his story, I've always had the perception that a person can easily cheat death, you know, like cats having nine lives? Unfortunately, I wasn't quite sure how many lives I still have left since I was pretty rough back when I was a kid. I mean, can you imagine if our lives were simply built like a cell phone where we can retrieve remaining life balances? It would be nice to know that way we can take extra preventive measures.

No matter how much I tried to focus, I couldn't really see him. Maybe because I didn't have a third eye like my grandfather and the rest of my family. But I knew he was there somewhere. I could even feel him breathing down my neck. That explains the goosebumps I get every time. To make matters worse, my friend Olga, who was sitting next to me on our bus ride to Camp Woodman, had her scratched up cheap head phones on while she was sleeping. The 'Don't fear the reaper' song by Blue Oyster Cult blasted repeatedly. Olga's head dropped to my shoulder, her drool slowly leaked down the sleeve of my white shirt.

"Ew, gross." I muttered, gently pushing her away from me that way her head was now leaning on the other side. The trip to Camp Woodman was a little boring. It takes an hour and a half to get there but it's only been thirty minutes and I'm starting to get antsy. Mom was right. I shouldn't have agreed to go to summer camp. But then if I stayed home, then I wouldn't get to see Scottie the hottie. Scottie was one of the camp counselors of Camp Woodman, not to mention, the ultimate dream boat that everyone dreams about. He's the youngest camp counselor there while the rest of the staff were a little bit... seasoned.

With a loud yawn, Olga finally woke up from her nap, her fist had almost collided with my jaw as she stretched. "Are we there yet?"

"Nope." I said with a sigh, closing my eyes. "Wake me up when we get there. I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

Bus rides are supposed to be fun, like that one time back in the sixth grade, it was a month before our promotion. We had a blast driving up to Camp Julian, because our teachers weren't boring. I think that's what happens when you get older, adults seemed to care less about you.

Just when I was about to drift off to sleep, Olga gave me a slight nudge, interrupting my personal trip to dreamland. I opened my eyes and turned to look at her. She had a nasty grin plastered on her face, and I knew why she was looking at me like that. "Are you ready to see you-know-who?"

I blushed. I almost forgot that it was our code name for every single hot guy that we liked. Except, my best friend is oblivious with my whole I'm-in-love-with-my-hottie-camp-counselor situation. So I'm sure that she wasn't referring to Scottie, because I've never really told her about him. I've had issues before with Olga liking the same guys that I liked, so I was a bit apprehensive this time with my own little guy secret.