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I never tell anyone anymore, but I had a sister.
Her name was Poppy. Oh, I know it's silly, our mother had a fondness for wild flowers. She said that even the commonest of them could be beautiful to someone. Poppy was four years younger then me and always that little bit better, but so sweet I couldn't bring myself to be jealous. While I was out chasing bright lights, she stayed home in Marietta and looked after Momma. I sent money back to them whenever I could and I tried to be an example, although Momma would say that acting was not the path Jesus chose for his good children.
After I died I tried to find other ways of looking out for them. It's the hardest thing about moving on without ever really going anywhere. There were rules for reapers even then, we weren't supposed to intervene. Not when the card came up with my own mother's name on it, and not when my sister turned to drink for her sorrows and the wrong man for her comfort.
He was married. If I'd still been alive I could have told her that married men are only ever worth it for the gifts; oh, you get pretty things while they still think they need to court you, but they never leave their wives. Finally the presents and the thrills dry up and you become the symbol of all the bad they've done. I got there too late, but only just. She had such a pretty neck, my sister, you'd call it swan-like if you ever saw her. Really, I don't know how he could bear to put such ugly red marks on a pretty neck like that.
We weren't supposed to intervene. If I'd been in anything like my right mind I'd have moved her soul on to where it was going before I shot him. His name wasn't down to die that day.
Thats why I was transferred to New York, and that's why I knew what would happen when Mason killed Ray for me. Thats why I won't do those kind of deaths. Rube won't do children, I won't do those. All because I had a sister. It was a long, long time ago.
Her name was Poppy. Oh, I know it's silly, our mother had a fondness for wild flowers. She said that even the commonest of them could be beautiful to someone. Poppy was four years younger then me and always that little bit better, but so sweet I couldn't bring myself to be jealous. While I was out chasing bright lights, she stayed home in Marietta and looked after Momma. I sent money back to them whenever I could and I tried to be an example, although Momma would say that acting was not the path Jesus chose for his good children.
After I died I tried to find other ways of looking out for them. It's the hardest thing about moving on without ever really going anywhere. There were rules for reapers even then, we weren't supposed to intervene. Not when the card came up with my own mother's name on it, and not when my sister turned to drink for her sorrows and the wrong man for her comfort.
He was married. If I'd still been alive I could have told her that married men are only ever worth it for the gifts; oh, you get pretty things while they still think they need to court you, but they never leave their wives. Finally the presents and the thrills dry up and you become the symbol of all the bad they've done. I got there too late, but only just. She had such a pretty neck, my sister, you'd call it swan-like if you ever saw her. Really, I don't know how he could bear to put such ugly red marks on a pretty neck like that.
We weren't supposed to intervene. If I'd been in anything like my right mind I'd have moved her soul on to where it was going before I shot him. His name wasn't down to die that day.
Thats why I was transferred to New York, and that's why I knew what would happen when Mason killed Ray for me. Thats why I won't do those kind of deaths. Rube won't do children, I won't do those. All because I had a sister. It was a long, long time ago.
