TITLE: My Name is Death
GENRE: YA urban fantasy
I’ve lost the Book of Death. Usually, it’s in my bottom drawer, under this pile of work from the tenth grade I never bothered to chuck out. Today, an old geography textbook’s the only thing beneath my trig exams, and the sad canvas that’s my attempt at art. S***. I stare at the empty space, hands limp at my sides.
The Book of Death’s kinda vital. I can’t kill anyone without it. Not that killing people’s my all time favorite hobby or anything. Just comes with the territory when you’re the Grim Reaper.
I rip into my drawer. Please, God of Lost Things, God of Found Things, God of damn Birthday Cakes: let me find the Book of Death.
Only one item in my drawer requires any care – the Book of Life. It’s important, too. I write the names of those scheduled to die in the Book of Death, ending their lives, but the Book of Life tells me who to kill, gives me the names.
Once that’s safe on my desk, I reach back into my drawer, shoving things out again. What on earth are my sneakers from the freshman year still doing in here? They stink. After the sneakers, the only thing left is an SAT guide. Mom bought it for me once upon a time. Don’t think I’ve ever looked at it.
Still, there’s a slim chance the Book of Death is hiding beneath it. Fingers crossed. Toes crossed. Intestines crossed. I take a deep breath and plunge my hand into the drawer.