My name was once Melody. That was a long time ago. I was alone and unloved. But I didn’t seem to notice.

An old man approached me at the park. He asked where my parents were. To that I had no reply. He inquired if I had a coat or something to stay warm with in the bitter cold. I had nothing of the kind.

Everyday I returned to the mysterious man who seemed to be concerned for my well being. He was dressed in black and seemed to be in a constant state of melancholy reflection.

He didn’t speak much, but neither did I. Days turned into months, and i grew to love him as my only true friend and companion in the world. Once I asked him for his name and he said, “I’ve had many in the course of my life. And what are names besides what we refer to others? Dear Melody, what do you think I should be called?”

I thought about this for some time.

“I’d like to call you Grandfather.”

The man smiled, but said nothing for a long time.

“In that case i will call you Granddaughter.”

That last time I went to the park I felt weak. I laid on our bench and waited for Grandfather to visit me, but everthing was dizzy.

Finally he came, but I could not even smile.

Grandfather appeared to get choked up, “I’m very sorry this life has not been kind to you. You have been neglected enough. Child, it’s your time. For others I would warn, ‘Time is up. Better run!’ but this is not true for you. My sweet, you have been claimed as death’s granddaughter, for that is one of my names. I am Death and you can finally rest with me.”

He then gently lifted me up, and cradled me safely near his chest. We went home.

I knew I never had a reason to fear Death.