Free A Reaper Made by Liz Long

her at the door and took her bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Despite knowing that Allison could take care of herself, I appreciated his chivalrous nature. They headed to their classes, heads bent together in conversation. Not wanting to feel like a creeper, I stayed a few feet back so that I didn’t hover over them.  
    My heart ached, both from jealousy and joy, as Brady squeezed her to him and kissed the side of her head. Her head leaned on his shoulder as they walked and a pang went through me. They paused at a small group of people who stood gathered by a tall building, the sign beside it reading “Chester Science Building.”  
    Puzzled, Allison and Brady looked to the crowd and followed upward to the sky. I heard Allison gasp in fright and my gaze zoomed up to find a girl on the ledge of the top of the building. Wind whipped around the girl, her shirt fluttering around her. My stomach dropped.  
    “Oh no,” I whispered. I hadn’t even had a hint of a soul about to perish. I wondered if Tully or another Reaper got here first and that’s why I hadn’t felt her. I looked around, but it appeared I was the only Reaper on the ground. Allison cried out and my attention went back to the girl on the roof. I froze in place, unsure if I should attend to her or stay with Allison in case of trouble.  
    A young man came up to Brady, who barely nodded at him in greeting. “What’s goin’ on, man?”  
    He attempted a fist bump that Brady didn’t return. He didn’t take the hint. “Brady-”
    Allison shot him a dirty look. “Matt, get a clue.”  
    Matt’s brow furrowed as he opened his mouth to reply. I stepped forward to take a closer look at him. He was cute, with longish brown hair and dark blue eyes. He dressed normal enough, in jeans and t-shirt with a band logo I didn’t know. When he turned to address them, I saw ink on the back of his neck. The tip of the design poked out from the collar of his t-shirt; it looked familiar and I realized he had the same tattoo design as Brady. They must be closer than I’d guessed to share a tattoo.  
    Matt paused when Brady’s index finger pointed up. Matt followed the direction and his jaw dropped at the scene above. My attention went back to the terrified girl.  
    “Please don’t jump!” someone screamed up to her.  
    “I don’t want to do this!” the girl shouted. “Don’t make me!”  
    “Don’t! You don’t have to!” someone on the ground shouted back at her. “Stay there, someone will come up and help you!”
    Usually, once a person had decided to step on the ledge, there was little chance of stopping it. Still the girl’s soul didn’t call out to me; in my experience, that meant she was supposed to live. She’d step back from the edge any minute now to stay alive. Her Reaper would see to it.
    Campus police officers came onto the scene, a lieutenant barking at an officer to run upstairs and stop her. It would be up to her; no way could someone race up those stairs fast enough to reach her in time. Students continued yelling at her to back away, to not jump and take her life.  
    “I don’t want to go to Hell!” she shrieked. “Don’t let them take my soul!”  
    She stiffened, her eyes on the ground below her. I paused at her phrasing, at the curious way she put her last words. A heartbeat went by as she composed herself, her face blank and silent.  
    She stepped forward into nothingness.  
    Her long dark hair swirled in the wind as she pitched forward. Several students, including Allison, screamed in terror, for help, for anything that would keep this girl from dying, but it was too late. I saw the girl’s face, covered in pure fear, right before she hit the ground with an awful thud, a flat, dull sound that cut off the whistle of her body in the wind. The crowd’s screams didn’t stop.  
    Allison reached for Brady, burying her head in his chest to avoid seeing any more of the terrible sight. He stroked her hair as he watched the