Knocking on Heaven’s Door

They acted that way throughout that day, none of them told me what was wrong. It was at night when Death came again that I knew what was wrong. I refused to eat the food my brother brought with tears still in his eyes to me. I’d left the food uncovered on the floor and slept. Death woke me up. He looked thinner now, more like a skeleton, and he had no hair on his head. He wore a white long robe stained with too much blood, the robe looked as if it was used to clean up the blood of a massive accident scene.