Sandman

[author's note: this story is a fair bit longer than the others, but it's one of my essays. have fun. also, Death speaks in italics.]

One thing was the car, smashed into a massive brick wall, her head crushed between the windshield and steering wheel, her face barely visible beneath a layer of blood. Another thing was Death himself breathing down her now cold neck. He wasn't rude, actually he was quite pleasant, helping her out of the remains of her mother's car so that she could see the damage and her own corpse.
After a few minutes of accounting her newest problem – that she was dying or already dead, she looked up at Death.
“So, tell me, what now?” she asked, brushing away a lock of bloodstained blond hair.
That's entirely for you to decide; he answered, looking at his watch, but the paramedics will be here in about half an hour, if my calculations are right.
“What's to decide? That crash looks pretty fatal to me.”
Like I said; that's your decision. You tell me if you're dead or not.
She looked at Death. He looked untouched by the morbid scenario: a 17-year old girl, bleeding profusely where the cracks in her skull poked through the skin. More than one bone in her body was broken, and she looked unconscious. Then it occurred to her -
“Let me get this right, I have to decide if I want to live or die?”
You're quite slow, let me tell you that.
“What's the catch? There's got to be a catch, right?”
Well, yes. Someone else is going to die too if you die. And you will be slightly disfigured, not to mention the small loss of sight.
“Wait a minute, someone else is going to die too? Who? Did I run someone over?”
Not exactly, no.
“Then what? Please cut the conversation and just tell me!”
You remember David, right? Your ex-boyfriend? He got you pregnant two months ago. He will commit suicide if you choose to die.
“Excuse me, I am pregnant?”
What do you think?
She didn't answer, but just took in all the information. Here she was, on her way out of town after an argument with her mother. She had crashed against the wall, had been made into a spirit by Death and now she was apparently pregnant. What a splendid day.
“Death?”
Yes?
“I'm going to Hell, right?”
Everybody does. Just for your information.
“I sure hope so. What's it like?”
Not so different from here.
“Damn.”
Bad day?
“Let's just go.”
So be it.

When the paramedics arrived, Rumor was pronounced dead at the scene.