Privacy.
"Privacy"
Death was not the end. It was an introduction.
When I was born as a reaper, I thought my task was simple: take the hand of the fallen and guide them into the silent void. I wasn’t supposed to ask questions, wasn’t supposed to feel. But how could I not, when each soul told me stories that refused to be forgotten?
A painter, whose final masterpiece drowned in the fires of war.
A mother, whose hands bled for a family that barely remembered her name.
A rebel, whose cries for freedom echoed in an empty, indifferent world.
Through their lives, I witnessed the tragedy of human existence: a theater of dreams shattered by fate, of struggles unseen by the heavens, of lives stripped bare by the ever-present gaze of society. They lived without privacy, under the weight of expectations, systems, and destinies that did not care for their hearts.
And yet, even in their brokenness, I found beauty. In their despair, I found defiance.
But as I led them to their final rest, I began to wonder—was I a witness, or was I complicit? Could I, a mere shadow of death, rewrite the stories fate had already penned?
"Privacy" is a haunting meditation on dreams, mortality, and the meaning of freedom in a world that never stops watching. A tale as fleeting as a heartbeat, and as eternal as the silence that follows.
