[ WP ] As it turns out , one of your students is the child of Death , and he decides to come to a PTA meeting .

I took a deep breath as the air suddenly turned chilly and the birds outside fell silent. He was here. 
 
 First, the classroom door opened and young Al Grimm skipped into the room. Al was cheerful, tan skinned, brown haired and grey eyed. Al was always in the top of the class. Next, a shadow seemed to fall over the room before a 6'3 man in a tattered crimson robe entered, the hood cast an impenetrable shadow over the man's face. Well, actually, did Death even count as a man since he was n't one? 
 
 `` Hello Al and, erm, Mr. Death. Please have a seat.'' I was surprised I could sound so calm in front of him. 
 
 A surprisingly light voice answered from the hood's depths. `` Call me Death, we'll be meeting again in 87 years anyway. How is Al doing in class?'' 
 
 Mentally, I made a note to write that down after Al and Death had left. 87 years to live, well, it was a lot longer than some people got. 
 
 `` He's doing great, really, top 10 %, all his marks are in the 80 to 90 % range, even phys. ed. He's very eager to learn about history, though he does have the slightest problem with correcting the teacher about how certain things happened.'' 
 
 Death folded his arms across his chest revealing a glimpse of incredibly pallid, bony hands as he looked down at Al. `` I told you simply because I am Death it does not give you the right to correct your teachers on any matter. You are Death in training, you must learn to respect human history if you are to do your job properly.'' 
 
 `` Yes, Dad, I will.'' 
 
 `` Good. Now, is there anything else worth discussing? I've got an airliner's worth of people to escort in 10 seconds.'' 
 
 `` Um, no, I do n't think so. Err, good luck?'' 
 
 `` Thank you. See you soon.'' With that Death and Al disappeared in a burst of cold air and shadow. 
 
 The birds started chirruping again and though a memory of heat returned to the room I shuddered. At least it was over. Well, I supposed I could see Tony and Mr. and Mrs. Greene early. All I really wanted was a cup of hot chocolate. Just two more meetings. Only two more then I could go home, have some hot chocolate and dig, get, get into a good book. 
 
 Now I was going to start obsessing about how I was going to die. Crap. Oh dear God, please, please, do n't let my death involve crap. Pretty please?
