GENRE: MG Secret
I saw Death during the half-time show.
While I blasted the same series of half notes on my trombone over and over, I got my first real view of the thing that's been haunting me since I turned six.
It was as tall as my dad, but too skinny to be human. Solid black fog in constant motion. A glossy black oval face with no features was tucked within a heavily hooded swirling cloak, but I swear, it stared straight at me.
Nobody else noticed.
The monster hovered on the stairs next to Ms. Schmidt and an older gentleman wearing a black bowler hat. Odd, I’d never seen her at a football game before. As far as I knew, Ms. Schmidt didn't have any children or grandchildren.
The band exited the field and Mr. Washington released us for our Third Quarter break. I dashed to where Death had been, but it had vanished.