She couldn't move. Her eyes stared lifelessly into the open sky, clear blue. The blue the sky made when it used to clash with the sun, while wisps of clouds passed overhead, dancing like gazelles. A grey suit was stretched over her skin, while black dusty shoes were planted firmly on her feet, sticking like glue. Her hands were covered with dark green gloves, preserved perfectly throughout the years she had been fighting me. Fighting death. The past thousand years she had been growing stronger, battling me like a raging storm. Lying against a white medical bed in an abandoned hospital. A thousand years ago, human's had reached their peak, yet also their lowest point in history. I had worked overtime, reaping souls by the second, until nearly none remained. The current number was 56, including the girl now. I waited by her bed, a hand touching her cold cheek, patiently seeing her fate. Would I reach into her soul and snuff out her flame? Or would she prevail, only to die soon. In her gloved hand she held a silver rusting crowbar, a thousand years old, and a thousand more. Her face was frozen, stone, frostbitten stone covered in snow. Expressionless, her soft features reeked of cold, yet she was incased in warm summer vines, crawling over her. Grey eyes as ominous smoke, fighting desperately to escape from their chains, form their small spherical prison as they drifted slowly across her eyes. A clipboard lay on the floor, light brown wood with a rusted red clip connecting to picture perfect paper. I remembered so clearly the day when Camilla Rose was taken to hospital, diagnosed with a strange disease nobody had ever heard of. It was eating Camilla from the inside, until her heart stopped beating. She was still alive, laying in bed, then humans slowly started to die as their world died around them, died with them. But somehow, for a thousand years, Camilla was still alive, still fighting for her own survival. Against all odds, against lack of food, water, and too old to live, Camilla Rose had survived. Camilla's brown hair floated out around her, long and straight, spraying out around the room, nearly suffocating me in her hair. I felt no emotion, it had all been destroyed the second I emerged from the sea, emotionless Death, taking souls from those who longed to live, blowing out candles where bonfires would soon light. Snipping the string that held someone's life together like a spider's web. Camilla muttered something inaudible, and I sighed. I had gotten used to senseless words cascading out of the girl's mouth like a waterfall. White floors were covered by moss and vegetation, yet Camilla's bed lay nearly untouched. 'Maybe...' I thought to myself as I watched the dying girl, 'Maybe she might just survive.'