Dirty Job

“Dear Diary,

I’m so sick of this. I’m not even living! I mean, who would call this a living?

I have the worst job in the world. Forget all you’ve seen in the dirtiest jobs show; my job is the dirtiest job in the history of jobs.

In all these years, I have resigned like a hundred times…but you know my boss. he has his own rules. but anyways, this morning I asked for resignation once more. maybe it works this time. I really hope.

I’m tired; I can’t take it anymore. I’m tired of seeing their scared faces, of listening to them begging for their lives –for another chance- and I’m tired of rejecting them all, of being the heartless guy in all scenarios.I know that I shouldn’t blame myself, ‘cause I’m only doing my job, but sometimes I, too, feel sorry for those who I take their lives away…I know it’s the right thing to do since I chose this path a long time ago, but still something in me is now rejecting it.

It’s funny but I keep wishing that my time comes sooner. I’ve seen enough deaths, now I want to touch it myself.



o’ well, I have to go now, my pager light is on. Urgh...Another mission.

Later.”

******



I slide the pager down into my pocket and without the slightest sense of interest I put my black coat on, and with my free hand I shove the diary in the drawer and lock it. I wasn’t expecting another mission this late at night, but well, as I was telling my diary; my boss has his very own rules; no matter what time in day, I should always be ready. I grab my tools with disgust and for the millionth time in my life I wish that this would be the last mission.

         I don’t know how it is going to be this time, the number is quite big. Maybe it is going to be a blown up car, or a blown up building. Who knows? I guess this part is the most exciting part of my job: “Guessing.” Huh! That’s Pathetic!

         I shake my head in anger and to get rid of all these old thoughts.

*********

I have a rather quick and pleasant flight to my mission place, I think this is the second good part of my job. Flights; A fake feeling of freedom while you don’t have the slightest sense of it in your life.

*********

I was almost right about my mission; it is going to be a building on fire -pretty close to my guess. I walk closer to the building; a nice, new built building with hundreds of people inside. I know there are children in there; I can sense their beating lives, their enormous enthusiasm for it. They are young people in it; I can feel their recklessness- their courage. And also there are old people in there; waiting for death in silence -well, I guess tonight is THEIR lucky night.

I wait outside the building till the appropriate time, and while waiting I review my mission once more: 5 apartments out of 49 were going to get fire, and 65 people out of 416 were going to die… Quite fair.



********

My pager goes on again, I feel like my heart  falls down a few inches. I know what is it is going to be about. Nervously I pull the pager out of my pocket; There is a message waiting… Almost shaking, I roll the screen down; it is from my boss’s secretary –I was thinking right- and there is one familiar sentence resting on the white screen:

“Your resignation’s not been accepted.”

*********

Anger flows into my blood; how could he do it again?

I groan madly, if that is the way he wants to ignore me in this way, after years and years of my faithful service, I have my way of being careless too.

I clench my fingers around the pager in my pocket and walk into the building -with a devil inside. 

*********

Soon the building is on fire, but I am not going to wait for fire to finish those people. I, myself, will do it - One by one. Anger is giving me enough power to do it all, even if goes to the last person on earth. I don’t care if this is not what it was planned, or if it’s not what boss wants and if it’s not what these people want.

Who cares for me?

*********

I finish them all sooner than I usually would do. I can’t remember how I did it. I don’t even know how many did I kill tonight… I don’t know if it was me who did it all. I look back at the building –that fancy shiny building is now just a small piece of hell.

I watch people running for their lives.  Not much far from me two men are trying to bring a woman back to life; I can smell the men’s sweat, hear their heartbeats and I can feel the life sweeping away from the woman’s body. It won’t be hard for me to take away their lives, all three of them. But enough lives been taken away tonight. My anger has ruined enough lives.

I sit next to the broken down building and watch cops and firemen as they ran inside and outside building.

The building is collapsing, and so are my hopes.

*********



          My pager goes on for the third time: I’m summoned. I was expecting it… he would want to see me after all this. In my heart I wish that his anger will go out of his control and this time he finishes me, although I well know it won’t happen. As I pass an open window I hear the news on TV “…356 people are reported dead till this moment. 65 deaths were caused by fire and the other…well; police hasn’t found any reason for their deaths yet…” I don’t wait to hear the rest. It’s time for the criminal to walk away from the crime scene.

********

A fast, and this time, unpleasant flight to his office.

********

         It’s all dark outside; walking toward his office I take off my coat and drop it on the floor. I don’t bother to knock on the door for I know he already knows I’m standing there. Inhaling as much air as I can, I take three long steps into his office. When I dare to look up I see him smiling: “My dear friend, Samael.” he almost cries. I sigh, and all my hopes vanish as I see his calm smiling face. “Hey God,” I reply back his greetings. He looks at my face, and of course reads my thoughts “don’t be disappointed. You know hope is…” I cut him and finish his word myself: “hope is the last thing to die. I know.”

“You went mad again tonight, right? Or its you’re counting skills? 65 and 356. It’s quite a big difference“

I don’t answer, but fall back into rash of thoughts and grief in my head. but the next one who breaks the silence is me:

“What will happen to those whom I killed tonight?”

“I will, for sure, give them back the life they lost. I’ll send them back to earth again.” He explains.

“And their families?”

“I’ll pay them back for this in heaven.”

I stop asking questions, but he won’t let me sink in my thoughts again: “Are you still angry?” God asks, placing his arm around my shoulder. “Not anymore. I’m perfectly at peace now.” I sigh. “You know I can’t be mad when I’m around you.” I continue. He laughs out loud: “well, you’re not the only one. I guess no one can.” 

“So what’s up now? I’m fired?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“No my dear, you’re not. We’ve got about a million more man-years to go and you are the one and only death angel I’ve got.”

“God, stop saying that. We both know you can create thousands like me in a second.” God sighs. “So you want thousands more to suffer the way you do?”

I don’t say anything. No, I don’t, but I don’t want to take away lives anymore either. God talks for me, just so I could hear my words “no you don’t. But you don’t want to take away lives either.” he repeated my thoughts. “What is so wrong in taking lives away?” he asked. “What is not wrong with it God? They all hate me; you should see the look on their faces when I pull the life out of their bodies.” God cuts me this time “I have seen them all. Every single look. You know that right?”

“Right. You got that one. but besides that… you remember that one time -well it was more than one- but that one time that the guy –what was his name? Hitler? - he beat the shit outa me before he gives up his life?”

God laughs bitterly.

“Yes, I do remember him very well.” God’s face falls -he dont’t enjoy remembering those who have gave up their humanity before they give up the soul they almost didn’t have any more- but soon he put a smile back on, “but you know every job has its own difficulties. Even being God.” he paused and then continues; “I understand your pain and suffering, Samael, I really do. I swear to beauty of this night that I understand your pain, as I do understand a deer’s pain when it has to give up her life to a lion’s survival. Or as I understand people’s pain when they have to give up their beloved lives to death.”

And so I give up arguing with him to the peace of silence. His is always one step more logical than mine; honestly sometimes it gets really on your nerves.

I ask the last question, or so I think:

“Why did you create death at all?”

“So there will be life.” he answers.

“When mine will come to an end then?” –another question.

“Soon, my dear, soon.” a nice sweet answer. Huh! Soon, yes, of course; only a million other years you should wait.

Gods smiles at my sarcastic thoughts, and soon starts humming a song. I close my eyes, and fall asleep in his arms – hoping that it would last forever.