I went to college to get away. To get away from my remaining family, from everyone that I knew. I wanted to start fresh. I needed to start fresh. Too many of the people close to me left, so I had to take it into my own hands: I had to be the one to do the leaving this time. So I went to the last place anyone I knew would go - Pueblo, Colorado. If you don’t know anything about Pueblo, let me give you a quick description in a few words - cowboy, conservative, druggy, and boring. Pretty much the exact opposite of San Francisco, well, besides druggy, because that’s pretty much everywhere.

So there I was, in Pueblo, Colorado, free for the first time in my life. A completely new place. Death couldn’t follow me here, right? Pueblo was, well, Pueblo, but there were exactly zero people in the city that I knew. Which meant that there were zero people in this city that death could take away from me. I was enrolled in college to study Social Work. With all of the death in my life, I thought I’d be pretty good at helping others deal with grief as well. So there I was in my first ever college class. Psych 101. After half an hour, the professor was finished going through the syllabus when emo lanky kid sitting next to me said under his breath, “I thought everyone in here would be dead by the time that old hag finished the syllabus.”

I glanced at him with a startled look. Seemed like a harsh thing to say about the kind-looking professor. I quickly looked forward again and avoided eye contact. The professor had continued on to lecturing about the anatomy of the brain and for what each part was responsible. “Now the frontal lobe is primarily responsible for taking action, both mental and physical. This lobe helps us plan, problem solve, make decisions. It is our impulse control -“

“So it is precisely the frontal lobe of this serial killer that I should be blaming for the uptick of murders happening in this place,” said the guy next to me, again, under his breath but definitely loud enough for me to still hear every single word. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to even be quiet about his comments or if he intended for me to hear them. How odd.

I was a little weirded out by this guy, so I intended to sit somewhere else in the classroom next class. I was unfortunately running late for the next class and when I arrived, the only seat available was of course next to the emo guy. We had a pop quiz the second class and I observed that his name was Greyson. To my dismay, the morbid comments continued during that second class.

Class after class, I somehow ended up sitting next to Greyson and having to listen to his comments. However, they got wittier and funnier over the course of the semester. I was no stranger to death - my father, my youngest sister, my uncle… So I let a few of my own morbid comments out to which Greyson responded with an approving smile. We eventually began chatting before and after class and realized that we had quite a bit in common, not limited to: being alone, a strong interest in the human mind, and basketball.

As we became friends, I did notice that Greyson expertly avoided touching anyone, which wasn’t weird until he faked tripping to avoid bumping shoulders with someone in the hall. Finally, towards the end of that first semester, after we had studied together almost every day of the preceding month, I had to bring it up. “Hey Greyson, can I ask you a weird question?”

He immediately got tense and a worried look appeared on his face. “I knew this was coming. Go ahead, I won’t lie.”

Well his response certainly piqued my interest. Instead of being scared to ask the question, I became intrigued and bold. “You never touch anyone. You avoid it at all costs. What’s going on?”

“Every person I have touched in the past has gone insane. Every. Single. One.” He looked me right in the eyes and was trying to impress something upon me.

But I didn’t get it, so I pressed him. “How do you know that for sure? Are you cursed?” I reached out my hand across the table ready to tap him on the arm and he flinched away.

“There’s something about me that I haven’t shared with you. And if I do, there’s no going back. I’ve never shared this little bit of information and been greeted with welcoming arms.” He looked genuinely scared.

But I knew him. I knew him well. He was kind, genuine, witty, knowledgeable, and even loyal. I was also scared, because it felt like anyone important in my life ended up dead. In the few months that I’d known Greyson I was so confident in knowing that he was important to me. I wasn’t sure what he could drop on me that would convince me otherwise. I gave him a reassuring smile. “You can trust me, Greyson.”

He looked back at me with wide eyes, “Weirdly, I do trust you. Okay. Don’t freak out. This doesn’t mean death.” DEATH? What was he about to say to me? All of a sudden, I was paralyzed with fear. Death is the one thing that I fear terrified about. “This is going to sound unbelievable, but I swear to god it’s the truth. I’m actually the Grim Reaper.”

I looked at him stunned. Then I let out a nervous laugh. “And being the Grim Reaper precludes you from touching people?”

He looked back at me without a glimpse of jest on his face. “Correct. If I touch someone, they can see both worlds: living AND dead. There is no reverting back. Forevermore, the touched person will see both worlds. Most don’t have the mental capacity to handle it. Hence why they go insane. It’s too much to process for the normal human brain. I was actually hoping that taking some psych classes would help me understand it better.”

Of all the bombs that Greyson could have dropped on me, I can honestly say that this was not on the bingo card. I didn’t say anything to him for the next few minutes while I thought about this. Well, I was scared of death taking away another person that was important t’ me. But the Grim Reaper himself was effectively death, meaning that he couldn’t possibly be taken away from me. As I thought it through, I became insanely curious. Death had always been somewhat close to home for me, maybe that’s why I gravitated towards Greyson. After several minutes of quiet deliberation, I looked at him triumphantly. He looked back confused.

“It really doesn’t feel like we interacted by chance. I’m already a little insane. I had to grow up really quickly when death seemed to be surrounding me ever since I was a small child. I think that it was destiny that we met here. Maybe since I’m already a bit crazy, your touch won’t be too much for me. I’m already accepting of death. What will be, will be. I’ve lived with that mantra for most of my life and I haven’t let it hold me back.” I reached out towards him without crossing the threshold, allowing him the choice still. “I feel confident that I’ll be okay. I can’t imagine that living your life has been easy without having any physical touch. Go ahead.”

We made eye contact and I knew my life would never be the same. “There’s someone who’s been watching over you this whole time.” He hesitantly lifted his hand, then confidently clasped it with mine. Slowly my vision expanded. I don’t know how else to explain it. Beings materialized, engulfed in a purple-ish hue. I slowly looked around me and saw cats and dogs trotting around, along with a few people walking up and down the hallway outside. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw someone I didn’t think I’d ever see again and tears started welling up in my eyes. Little sis. “Thank you,” I whispered to Greyson.