You know times have gone ty when you can decide how you want to die, when you want to die. Of course that is if fate doesn’t intervene and the grim reaper doesn’t take you. Its not as though everything is bad. No one is ugly anymore, well not on the outside. You can get your own rhinoplasty do-it yourself kit for $19.99 at the mini mart down any street.

As I look outside the window from my tiny apartment, I find myself being alone. But that’s not a bad thing I guess. Given what I do, it’d be hard coming home to someone knowing you did what you did earlier that day.

From: J.H.

new batch. be at the office by 9

And there’s the text.

I know with all the money I make, I should probably buy my jet cycle (it’s a bike that flies up in the sky) but walking seems better. The streets are so empty and quiet, it feels nice. No one uses roads anymore. Everything is up there. Air traffic’s busy and that’s too much crowd for me. Its horribly boring to wait in air, looking down and knowing its better to be down than up when there’s no end to up.

As I walk into the office, I find my batch of applications on the receptionist’s table. Those just seem to get thicker and thicker day by day.

Name: Choi Minho

Age    : 27

How  : Strangled me with a thin red string

When: As soon as possible

Why  : Why not.

You see, I work for a company where you can sent it requests to be killed. Its awfully simple. You fill up a few simple questions and wire in the money. Its legal as long as you have a reason to die. Its always the usual things. Crappy work and head wife or sometimes the death of someone you love. That one is common. Usually requests like that come often. The pain of someone leaving you is sometimes too much.

And then, rarely but it does happen come reasons like this. ‘Just tired’ , its simple and explains everything and nothing at all. I’m tired too but I’d rather live. Who knows what’s going to happen in the afterlife, if there is one. My life’s not bad. I’m not exactly happy but its not bad. Its livable.

And then, there come reasons like this Choi guy who sounds like he probably doesn’t anything else to do but die.

Below this Choi’s application was his details. I’d have to drop by somewhere and get a thin red string. At least its better than my last endeavour where the applicant wanted to be hit by a jet plane while sky diving. That one paid a lot but it was too much work.

The door to Choi’s house was not locked. I figured he’d be waiting, after all he paid off the entire sum in cash to the company. And his application did say as soon as possible.

His apartment wasn’t too shabby. It was clean actually and had more stuff than my apartment. Well, everyone’s apartment has more stuff than mine. I only have a bed and few clothes laying down here and there. I don’t really like stuff. Its too stuff-y.

I can clearly see him sleeping on the couch and clearly his legs could not fit as it dangled off by the edge of the couch. I should professional and not look around but since he was sleeping anyway I took a little sweet time to look at the pictures he had on the walls. He seemed happy in those, handsome. And well, that was probably his past. His present must be real ed-up for him to sent a request to my company. Well, I’m ed-up too for taking this job but at least I’m still up for living. I just like putting people out of their misery.

I know shouldn’t be wasting any more time here. I have two more jobs today. Four tomorrow and I’m thinking about taking a rest on Wednesday. After all, its not that nice to kill on Wednesdays. It’d take two extra days for the morgue to release the bodies to families since no one is there to work on Wednesday and Thursdays. I don’t know why they don’t do holidays on Saturdays and Sundays like they used to. I remember my mother telling in back in the days where they still watched those flat thingys on the wall called televisions, they used to have a lot of holidays. Like Christmas or Halloween, its sad we don’t do that anymore. We don’t really do anything anymore. I guess everyone just lazy or just have better things to do. There are some parts in the world where I hear they still use those things called letters. I don’t think even museums keep those anymore.

I walk towards the tall boy and he does look better in real life than in those pictures of himself he sent to the company and those up on his wall.

I look at him and I wonder why would he want to get someone to kill him. He seems nice. I’d probably kiss him if we met in the middle of the streets. But a job is a job and time should not be wasted. I heard the government is going to make us pay tax for time. I bet a lot of requests are going to come in soon. Well, we don’t just do suicides for people, we take in requests to kill off people too but that one is underground because its not legal. Its only legal if the person himself wants to be killed.

 I reach out for the thin red jumble of string in my pocket and suddenly the man in front of me opens his eyes. They were big and brown. And it was like Woahhhh.

“You’re the person they sent?” he asks, lazily as he sits up.

“Yes.”

“You guys start young don’t you?”

“I’m nineteen.”

“Still young.” he says back.

“You talk as if you’re old.” he looks younger than his age despite the eyebags under his eyes.

“I feel old.”

“You want to do this now? I could come back tomorrow or something.” I ask him becausI don't feel like killing this guy.

“N-now is fine. Its not like I have anything to do anymore.”

“You want to die because you don’t have anything to do?”

“I’m tired.”

“Well, its your life and money but I do have a question though.”

“Which is?”

“Red string?”

“Seemed romantic. You know, being strangled with a thin red string than just any normal rope.” he says back.

“Oh. I guess. Want to close your eyes?”

And I wrap the string around his neck and I can hear his breath getting shorter and shorter by the second. I’ve never any had second thoughts about killing anyone but this guy just seems to be off for me.

“Honestly though, why do you want to die?” I pull back the red string and sit back in front of him. I know people want to die for a lot of reasons but why would someone like him want to die? It seems off. He has a family and his apartment looks expensive and well, he’s good looking. I should have more reasons to die than him.

“Do all the killers they sent talk a lot like you?” Minho asks. His eyes looking dull though his lips curved up a little.

“I don’t know. I’m not friends with the other killers.” I answered honestly. They're not really friendly to be friends with. Most All of them are scared of me anyway.

“Do you feel lonely?” he asks.

“ Do you?” I ask him back.

“Yes.” He answered. Which is odd for me for someone who has so many pictures of other people in his apartment.

“Is that why you want to die?” I ask.

“I feel empty.” He answers and I know it is unprofessional to talk with the customer for the too long. And I know I’m sure as hell am going to be late for my next job which is to push someone off a ledge across town because the customer wants to fall down to his death. Apparently his girlfriend died that way and he wants the same for himself too.

“I feel empty too.” I say back to him. But I suppose he feels more empty than I feel empty.

“Don’t you feel like killing yourself when you feel that way?” Minho asks back. His eyes suddenly staring into mine. Now-how am I suppose to kill someone with such big, brown eyes?

“I figured since the afterlife is going to be full of suicidal, depressed people, I’d rather stay here.” I answered back and he chuckles.

“People like me?”

“Well, you don’t have to be like them.”

Okay, so maybe Jonghyun is going to kill me, well he wouldn’t actually do it because he knows I can kill him first but still he’d be tempted to kill me since I just got this Choi guy’s contract cancelled. Well, I’d just refund the company. After all, I never do anything with the money I get for doing this job.

Most people would call me heartless. That doing this job is going to get me to hell. I do this because it’s the only thing I know how to do. Its better than the job I was raised to do. At least, I don’t have to kill innocent people whose head have been marked. I just kill people who want to die. And in this case, I’ve just helped someone not-die. Maybe my reasons for keeping him alive is selfish but still, he’s not dead.

“I’ve never been to this part of the city.” Minho says to me after I managed to pull him out of his apartment on my day off.

“You’ve never walked down roads before?” I ask him back. Well, he’s probably rich enough to never have to walk down dirty roads and move around flying all the time.

“No.”

“Sorry for keeping you alive.” I said to him and he smiles a little at me.

“It has turned into a truly awful world, hasn’t it?” he says as he looks up into the sky full of moving vehicles instead of a clean blue sky. I don’t think I can differentiate between the stars and shooting stars and the lights those jets have up in the sky anymore.

“I don’t think the past was any better.”

“Why do you think so?” he asks me back.

“Well, there are only two kinds of people in the world. The happy ones and the sad ones.” I answer back.

“And which one are you?”

“Walking with you here makes me the happy one.” I say back, honestly. Because I’ve never really had a friend before or kept them alive long enough to walk down this road with them.

“Perhaps you could make me happy too? I don’t like being sad anymore.”

“Why are you sad?”

“ I don’t have any reason to be happy.”

After that morning walk with Minho, I don’t feel empty anymore like I usually do. I suddenly have things to think about besides my usual daydream of how a flaming meteor is going to kill all of us someday when the big man up there is all bored of all the we do on Earth. Now, I have Minho to think about. Like where I want to take him next or what I’m planning to talk to him about because talking about my job might not be such a decent topic.

“Do you ever feel like running away from everything?” Minho asks me the next time we take our walk down the road.

“There isn’t much for me to run from.” I answered back.

“I don’t have that much of an everything to run from actually too.” He says back to me. Like he has a sudden realisation of things. Well, I thought he should’ve known that about himself since the day he told me he felt empty. I don’t know why I spend my time with Minho anyway. He’s always so sad most of the time that it makes me feel sad. Huh-I’ve never been sad because of anyone before.

Maybe that’s the reason I spend time with Minho. He makes me feel things.

“You could run away to where there’s everything you can have.” I say back to him.

“Everything I can have?”

“What’s your everything?”

“For now, you’re something.”

 Now, I know what its like to have butterflies in my tummy. And heart attack too.

I don’t know why but these days I’ve started to take lesser jobs. I have started to feel things I haven’t before. Guilt mostly.

The emptiness in those eyes I see, I want to take them away like the way I started to fill Minho’s eyes with everything I have. I look at my hands and I just don’t think I can use them to take another life away. What if someone loved the person I’m about to kill? Its awfully selfish. Its as though saying their feelings didn’t matter and I know its going to hurt them an awful lot to feel like their love is not appreciated. Like the way I feel for Minho. What if Minho signs another contract to kill himself again? I would feel sad. Its as though every single time and space and fragments and sound and light and darkness I have shared with the boy have meant nothing. I don’t like that. Not one bit.

I know it’s an awful world. And I know fully well that I’m one of the people out there. But if someone as bad as me can find a Minho for myself, all those people out there who want to die would eventually find someone too.

“I should’ve taken your heart out too when we-“

“I’m sorry.”

“How much love has that human put into you?” my boss starts to crumple the paper he was reading. I don't get why he bothers reading the newspaper when most of the words in there are untrue.

“I’m not all machine y’know.” Its just my arms and limbs. They did that when they bought me from somewhere I don’t want to remember anymore. It was to make me stronger and like that. Some had their hearts replaced with small cubes of electricity. Some had their skins fully removed. I was lucky enough to have metal replace my bones. At least my skin can still get warm from the friction of my blood pumping.

“I know.” My boss replies.

“Can I go now?” I asked but it wasn’t really a question. He knows very well he can’t make me stay. He knows very well I’m much stronger than all the other half-humans he has running down the streets.

“You can come back whenever you want to.”

“I’m hoping I won’t have to come back.” I say back to him. I know my boss.  I know he has a soft spot for me. If not, I would’ve had chips installed into my skull. He has let me kept my thoughts all to myself. All my actions controlled by my own will. Not like what the company did to all the others.

“I hope he’s worth it.”

And I whisper back to myself, he is.

It didn’t take long for me to convince Minho to come with me. I don’t know if he loves me as much as I love him . Perhaps he’s just coming with me because he doesn’t have any reason to stay. After all, he did want to stop breathing. But a part of me does wish he’s coming with me because he loves me. He’s never said it before and sometimes I do feel like crying because of that. Its strange to suddenly feel so much in such a short amount of time. Nineteen years of living and not a single tear yet three months with this man and a river of emotions. I like the pain but not just the pain. I like the happiness I feel when he smiles at me, when he laughs with me. I like the nervousness I feel when I see him sleeping on my lap and the feel of my hands getting sweaty when he’s holding it tight.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask him one more time before I twist the key in the ignition of my newly purchased old car. It has four tyres and still runs on petroleum which I like the smell of. Its hard to get petroleum these days but I know a guy who knows a guy whose brother I helped convincing to not get himself killed by me before I quitted my job.

“More sure than the time I wanted you to kill me.” he replies.

“You might not get to see your family anymore.” I say back to him.

“You should know by now that you’re the only one who loves me.” He smiles at me before kissing my cheek. It sounds awfully selfish of him to want to come with me because he craves for affection but I suppose I’m equally messed up because I don’t mind.

It was a long drive but eventually we did reach our destination. It was a place where the sky was still purplish-blue and we could see the clouds and stars. Where I could hear water crashing against rocks and birds singing and breathe air that's not tainted with tar.

With the both of us(also the fact that I'm half machine) it didn’t take long for us to build ourselves a small little place to live in. The place was empty but it was the good kind of emptiness because we weren’t lonely. 

It was one morning when I wake up to Minho staring at my face. The sun was starting to rise and the rays emitted by the red star looked perfect against his golden skin. The way it reflected into Minho’s brown eyes.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” I ask him.

“I love you y’know.”

“Why?” I ask him. And I’m about to burst into flames because of his words.

“You’ve made me into the happy ones.”

Author's note: really nervous about this one. p/s: please comment and comment and comment because i'm addicted to them the way i'm addicted to writing 2min. its my drug. also, sorry for not updating in such a long time. hope you guys are still willing to read my stuff.