Michelle nearly tripped while skipping down the steps of the bus. The converse on her left foot reached the lush light green grass first, and close behind was her right. The bus doors screeched closed and the bus rumbled down the street leaving Michelle alone.
She hopped to the sidewalk and walked a short distance before she heard a weak voice behind her: “Michelle!”
Michelle turned her head to see a cute little boy about 150 feet away. She couldn’t make out his face because of the distance between them, but he was clad in a light jacket zipped all the way up, basketball shorts, and black shoes with bright orange laces.
“Michelle!” he called again, “Michelle!”
Michelle stopped and turned around to face him completely. “Yeah?”
“Michelle!” he yelled, “Don’t go home!”
She thought it over for a second but then quickly came to the result that it was either a prank or her little brother. She couldn’t see his face so it could’ve easily been her little brother. Michelle turned back around and slowly walked up the hill and crossed the street.
Thoughts of the little boy swirled in her mind, but when she looked back, the boy was gone. She quickened her pace a little. Then she heard her name being called again, “Michelle!”
She looked over her shoulder to see the same little boy, farther down a different street.
“What do you want?” she called back hesitantly.
“Don’t go home! Stay here!”
She turned onto her street.
“No!!” he cried.
Michelle slung her backpack over one shoulder and started to run. Why did this little boy not want her to go home?
“You’re going to die.” He said calmly and faintly.
That caught Michelle’s attention, but she was done talking to this boy. She ran hastily down the street and was two houses away from her home when she heard a low whisper in her ear, “Goodbye,” it said.
Michelle slid to halt but tripped over a twig on the edge of the sidewalk and fell flat on her face into the street in front of a black truck.
She should’ve listened to Death.