Show Me How I Die

By A.S. Ali

Dido has been alive ever since she can remember, she’s not sure exactly how long she’s been alive but knows it’s been a long time. She doesn’t remember her family or where she came from. She has a gift, or more a curse, because she can see how people die from their touch. Dido has always been intrigued by Phoenix the boy she saw with the golden eyes at the park until one day she brushes past him and finds out he dies being hit by a car, a few seconds after they meet as he’s distracted with her. She saves him from being hit by the car but as consequence a bus full of people die instead. She realises that he must die, because if he doesn’t then the whole universe will cease to exist. But she doesn’t want him to die and will do everything in her power to stop it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.S. Ali
• Release date: Sep 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005443436

Book preview

Show me how I die

By A.S.Ali

Copyright © 2022 A.S.Ali

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher

1

When I first laid eyes on Phoenix Ash I thought he was an angel, not because he wore all white but because of his golden eyes. They say the angels have golden eyes. I have never seen an angel, but I don’t doubt if I ever did see one it would be an angel of death. I’ve seen them in pictures in old textbooks and fictional stories. The death angels wear all black with hoods. They don’t have eyes only a mouth and a nose. Death angels are bodies of dark entities with impure souls, which is why I often think of myself as a death angel because I’ve killed millions of people, maybe even billions. I wish I had an exact number but I’ve been alive for such a long time now that I’ve learnt that this is the way it will always be forever.

I have a gift for seeing how people die, all it takes is simple contact, usually a brush of their hand. I’ve seen so many ways a person can die, cancer, automobile accidents, murder, suicide. I can probably only count on one hand the amount of times I’ve seen someone simply die from old age. I am a killer, and a judge, juror, God in one. I see how these people die, children, men, women, yet I never do anything to stop it. It’s not that I don’t feel remorseful, but when you’ve lived as long as I have you come to understand that death is a part of life, we all have to die sometime and for most people they don’t get a choice of how.

I’m currently stood in a graveyard, watching afar the funeral of a man I only met once. We didn’t speak, we were sat next to each other on the tube. He was reading the paper with thick black reading glasses, wearing a grey suit with a navy blue waistcoat. Every so often he would check the time on his wristwatch and purse his lips impatiently, before going back to his reading. He shifted more than a few times in his seat like he was uncomfortable causing me to squish myself against the wall on the other side.

But then I wasn’t really paying attention, I was staring at the couple in front of me. They looked quite young, maybe only 17 or 18. They both had on a school uniform, a light blue tie and matching blazer except the boy’s tie had been inked with red pen.

They were listening to music, I couldn’t see the earphones and I presumed it must be these new wireless ones that are all the rage now. I could only tell they were listening to music because they were mouthing the lyrics to each other with wide grins on their faces whilst they stared at each other with that look. They always say that in films, ‘that look’, when you see someone you love and who loves you. You can see the way a person’s eyes sparkle when they see someone they love, how their pupils dilate and their chest expands. I’ve never had someone look at me like that ever, I long for and fear it all at the same time. I should count myself lucky I’ve never fallen in love since if I did I can imagine watching them grow old whilst I stay young, and then when they die I’ll watch people bury them knowing I’ll never see them again. At least when normal people die the people they leave behind can imagine another life, or heaven where they can see their lost loved one’s again. For me, no such place exists.

The man reading the paper got up abruptly at the next stop, he must have been in an hurry because he had put down his paper and forgot to pick it back up again as he was leaving. I was only on the tube because I like to ride it to the end of the line and back again. Most of the time I spend all day here, watching like a shadow as people interact with each other. I like how they smile when they greet each other, or exchange silly handshakes, or private jokes with each other. Or there are other days when the whole tube is silent where everyone likes to keep to themselves. Most people have got their eyes on their phone or a book and take no notice of the world around them. On the tube, I am just another passenger, waiting to get off on my destination. It’s the only thing I can do to make me feel normal.

I’m not sure why I decided to pursue the old man with his paper, maybe I felt like doing a good deed or maybe I didn’t think at all. It’s a bit of a blur now, I only really remember what came after. He was half sprinting out of the underground and up the stairs whilst I was running behind him trying to catch up with him. He only did stop as he got outside of the station to hail a cab. I patted him on the shoulder and he turned around. You forgot this on the tube. His brow creased in confusion as he looked between the paper and me. Oh. I’m sorry. He seemed embarrassed. Did you get off at your stop just to give this to me?.

No, I was getting off anyway but I saw where you were heading and I thought I would return this to you. I held out his paper as he looked at me quizzically as if unsure what to make of me. I get that look a lot as I wouldn’t say I’m exactly human looking. I have large bulbous eyes that are a sparkling green and a pointed nose that sticks out and is too big for my face. My skin is often flushed and gaunt since I barely sleep and my brows are thick and misshapen, hiding half of my forehead.

Well, thank you. His lips broke out into a smile for the first time as he took the paper from me and our hands brushed. When I see a vision, it’s like I’m there, watching it only a few feet away. I hear people screaming or sometimes there’s only silence. The worst part is I always see their bodies, lifeless, their eyes hollow. It’s the one part of my vision that I never get used and I don’t think I ever will.

He grabbed the paper and jumped in the cab, the same cab that in twenty minutes would run a red light and get hit by a meat delivery van.

He died instantly. I saw it on the news a few days later, his name was Jason Fischer, he was 39 and had been living in Southend on Sea for 15 years with his wife, Katie. I can see her now, crying into a tissue. She’s got brown hair and all of her eye make up is smudged. The funeral party seems to have all flocked away, leaving only her and a little boy. I’m not sure why I came, I don’t feel bad that he died, or think that I could have done something to stop him dying. It’s why my gift is a curse, because death is like life. You never know when it’s coming or what it will bring, you only know when it’s there, staring at you so big that you can’t ignore it.

I watch her for a couple more minutes before making my way out of the graveyard, where I start walking to Priory Park. I’ve changed my name a few times, I was Athena for the last 100 years and more recently I’ve changed it to Dido, like the singer. I never really fuss of names since I’m always changing them, though I prefer a new name for a new century. I don’t remember how many I’ve lived but what I do know for certain is that there are many more to come. Some would kill for the gift of immortality, to forever be young whilst everyone around you grows old, but it means I can never have a family, I can never have children or form any real emotional attachments. The only thing I feel for is my pet turtle, Aries. Turtles can live for over a hundred years which is why I prefer them over any other animal.

I see the park gates looming and I quicken my pace. It’s 4 when he starts walking through the park on his way to work. I don’t stop until I see the familiar black park bench hidden under a canopy of trees, where I sit and wait.

I look at the clock on my phone, it’s quarter to 4. I moved to Southend 10 years ago, before that I had been living in Aberdeen. I quite liked it there, the parks were big and the city was always crowded with people. I prefer the city to the small towns and coastal areas since it’s easier to blend in, especially when I move house every 10 years like clockwork. I have a system in place now, every 10 years I move house, every 20 years I move towns, every 40 years I move cities and every 100 years I move continents.

I’ve been in Europe for 96 years in August and I know I have to start thinking about where I want to go next. I’m thinking about Antarctica, it will be cold and I’ve basked in the hot summers we’ve had but I think I want to spend a couple of millennials away from people. They are saying the ice caps are melting now into the sea and that polar bears are extinct so maybe this will be my last chance. This planet was once filled with greenery and animals are every corner, and now it’s filled with crowds, and congestion, droughts and famine.

On que, at 4 I spot him in his black and white converses, his baggy cream jeans and white sweater, as he walks towards work. The boy with the golden eyes, Phoenix Ash. I only know his name because some weeks ago, a couple of girls were sitting on the bench opposite me and he stopped to talk to them. From what I gathered they must have been old school friends, they spoke for about 15 minutes before he excused himself and started on his way again.

He’s walking slower today, he’s not in a rush like he was last time but last time he was ten minutes late. He’s got sunglasses on but it’s not sunny, the skies are gloomy and I’m sure if I checked the forecast now they would say a high chance of rain. He walks with a certain swagger about him, like he knows someone’s watching him even when I’m hiding in the bushes and no one else is around. I always think of saying hello or trying to drum up some sort of conversation but every time I see him, I freeze and the moment passes before I can stop it. That’s the thing I hate about time, I seem to have a whole disposable of it, but then I never really have enough either.

Phoenix is looking more up at the sky than where he’s walking. He does that a lot, I think he’s one of those people who aren’t the most spatially aware. I’ve seen him bump into other passers-by before now. I can never tell if it’s because he’s just not looking or if it’s because he always somewhere else in his head. I want to know what his thoughts are, what he’s scared of, what he’s proud of, what he dreamed to be when he was a child but I’m left only ever guessing, too afraid to ask.

The only thing I do know about Phoenix Ash is that I have never seen anyone like him. It was his eyes that confused me first, they captivated me the moment I saw them. It was like he had done it on purpose to spite me, making me want to come out of the shadows for once. He didn’t see me, he was walking, too far away somewhere in his head to notice me. His eyes glimmered and the longer I looked at him the longer I convinced myself that they were shining for me. When he passed so did that feeling and I wanted to feel that way again, so I went back the next day. I waited for him, I was on the park bench for hours before I saw him again. I saw his eyes once