[ WP ] Death spared your life and made you immortal . Over hundreds of years , you have become friends . He 's been very busy with work and you miss seeing your buddy . You spend centuries attempting to create world peace , stop war and cure diseases so you can spend some quality time with your only friend .

I remember I was in my bed, but for some reason, I did n't die. I felt pain, but not terrible pain. Hunger washed over me, and then contentment. I saw the plain dressed man, and felt it. I felt and I knew exactly who he was. I stretched out my hand and he helped me up, and the feelings stopped tormenting. I felt clearer, as I had when I was 10. He smiled and took the sack near my side that was full of an invisible weight, the weight of all the souls that's death I had witnessed. The weight that was keeping me living, but making me die at the same time. It was a silent transaction, and I was okay with that. We shook hands and we both walked away, and forgot about it. 
 
 Ever since then, I tried different things. I was a doctor, a scientist. A librarian, A singer. A century later, he met me at a park and shook hands with me, and we talked, about knowledge we had acquired. `` I'm Mike by the way'' he said. I smiled at the lie he was telling, and I felt something tugging at my brain, exactly what happened whenever someone told me a lie, even from a child. It usually made me unusually mad, but this time, I just smiled and introduced myself as Dan. From then on, he met me every Tuesday, and I always felt sure of where to go, with no doubts. He was always there. It helped, to talk to someone who was like me. 
 
 One Tuesday, He was n't there. I waited until the next Tuesday, and yet he still was n't there. About a month later, I saw him, running toward two cars, and jumping into one through the window and Jerking the wheel, effectively killing one of the drivers. I ran to catch up to him and he breathed to me, `` Sorry. Too many people, too much death to work. Not enough Serial Killers'' He handed me a familiar empty sack, light with no burdens. In it, was my old knife. I nodded once, giving him a small smile, and then walking away, bag slung across my shoulder. It was time to resume my old career.
