Every night she visits me with terrible visions.
It always starts the same. I'm lying in my hospital bed when she appears wearing a black robe. Her auburn hair falls to her shoulders, her green eyes staring into mine. She is a vision of beauty, yet a vision of despair.
I know she's waiting to take me, but I'm not ready to go. There is still too much left to do. Soon, but not now. Perhaps she's just doing her job, but I can't just give in. My stubbornness seems to infuriate her.
As payment for my stubbornness she shows me glimpses of other worlds. Not what I imagine hell to be exactly, but terrible worlds where men hunt children for sport or mankind is being devoured by disease.
Last night it was a world of famine. Everyone was starving, their bellies bloated with gasses and bodies lying on the streets, no way to know which were alive and which were dead. There was a boy with an apple. Others watched nervously as he bit in, but within seconds he began to spasm. His body twitched in unnatural ways before going limp.
A woman and a man then walked up slowly, looking over the child. After a sigh of resignation, they too ate the apple, began the same convulsions and died.
This world was apparently poisoned. Everyone I saw was either dying from starvation or the poison in their food. Everyone seemed to have resigned themselves to their fate, as those that were alive did little more than lay helplessly on the streets, waiting.
I felt some sort of guilt for hanging on in my situation. That seemed to be the point of my reaper's visions.
So I spend my day trying to get my death in order before the visions come again.