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I sat up after staring at the ceiling for hours, as I stretched it didn't feel like a 'stretch', in fact I could even contort my body in strange ways without feeling uncomfortable. I missed even the simple things, but at least I never tire or feel the sensation of pain, most of what I felt was entirely emotional or psychological.

What I really hated most though was the fact that I couldn't feel any warmth, I could only feel the cold air around me, even when I was out in the sun I felt cold. The only times I've felt warm as a reaper was when I touched a dying body or a dissipating spirit, would I come to even hate the warmth at some point?

Thinking about it only made me feel worse, so I turned my attention to the shelving at the right of my door. I looked at the bottom shelf, there was this book at the edge of the left side, it was the first book I ever read. 'Towering Trials' was its name, I tried to jog my memory of the book, then it all came flooding back.

"Step step step... I think it went something like that."

I spoke aloud as I attempted to recall the details of a book I read when I was four.

"Step step step, climbing the tower steps. Step step step, stepping all about. Step step step, moving up and up. Step step step, reaching the tower top."

I continued looking at the cover of the book, an eager boy facing every tower within' his grasp, aiming to climb every tower that can be climbed. One... or three steps at a time as he gradually reached the top, I wonder why this book remains strong in my mind compared to other books I've read.

"At the top was quite the drop, the top is where you always stop. So now it's time to go back down, to climb another tower top. Tall and wide it's quite the stride, steps up and down and all around."

I pulled strings in my mind as I thought of what the rest was, but after a solid few minutes I couldn't. It's been over sixteen years since I read it afterall, it'd be more surprising if I did remember it all. However I tried to remember and visualize the illustrations instead, giving me a better clue into the hidden meaning.

I think on top of the first tower there was an easel and some paintbrush, the character paints and afterwards ties a rope that reaches the ground, I think the character mentioned something about revisiting the tower. And then he goes onward climbing a few other towers, each having a different thing on top of it.

Sometimes a tower would also have a key that unlocked another tower, and the top of that one often had something different, yet relating to the previous tower he found the key at. I suppose it meant learning skills gives you the opportunity to climb many towers, and the steps represent the process.

But what if you started climbing a tower you can't get out of? Where's the top if there's no end to it? I grunted as I clenched my fists with force, but there was no blood or pain, only the pressure of my nails pressed on my palm.

I decided to look outside the window as the sun crept up, was this really my third day as a reaper now? I've already experienced so much mental turmoil, what will be on my mind years from now... let alone a week from now?

I phased out my room and decided to go down to the living room instead, my dad was watching some action film, it'd only be a matter of time until the sun was reflecting off the TV. But I guess it always did a good job of preventing them from staying distracted, perhaps that's one valid reason for keeping the TV in the same spot all these years.

My mother wasn't awake yet, she always slept at a somewhat normal time, my dad on the other hand would sleep an hour or two earlier. I crossed my legs in the air facing the TV while I hovered above the floor, if I still had my face I'd be smiling right now.

"Man, this movie brings me back, hey dad do yo-..."

I paused for a moment as I glanced back at my dad, forgetting he can't see or hear me, I pulled on my horns and grunted in frustration. I felt grumpy now, guess that's better than feeling miserable. But a sudden chill crept over me as I saw a dark shadow, the silhouette of a person move by the window to the front door before a few soft knocks reverberated through the living room.

My dad paused the TV and pops his neck, letting out a loud groan as he stretches, as he gets up another round of knocks ensues. It kept getting colder, why do I feel like shivering all of a sudden?

"Comin', holding ya horses now."

My dad smiles as he approaches the door, as my dad opened the door, I realized the moment arrived. He was a dispatch officer I think, golden retriever if I had to guess, he looked down to the side as he faced my dad.

"Are you... Mr. Lazarus?"

He looked back to my dad, he had to tilt his head a bit higher to make eye contact, but he could barely keep his head up. The officer clenched his jaw as he grabbed the brim of his gray cap, I floated by my dad as the officer faced his body to the porch.

"Yeah, I'm Graph Lazarus, what ya need me for?"

I could tell my dad was nervous, he told me many tales of how he'd always be causing trouble with cops back in the day. The officer looked back at him, letting out a long sigh.

"You might want to take a seat for this, Mr. Lazarus."

My dad seemed lost in thought for a moment as he made his way out and sat on the porch, he probably already put two and two together as he put his hand over his mouth. The officer seemed more unsettled than my dad at this point, I guess me and this officer have something in common.

"Your... son, Zane Lazarus."

The officer looked like he was holding back tears as his bottom lip quivered, my dad put his hands in his dark hair and on his horns fidgeting with them. This was the first time I had ever seen him fidget with his horns and hair, it was so shocking to me that I was taken aback.

"Has... passed away, I give you my condolences."

My dad pressed his temples as the officer seemed to confirm his worst fear, he let out many deep breathes, the officer couldn't hold back his tears any longer. All I could do was float around him as he reacted to the news of my own death, I was freezing, I held my tail as my dad stood up.

He looked at the officer with countless thoughts written on his face, like he was lost and didn't know what to do anymore. The officer looked up at my father as he towered over him, still crying with a hint of intimidation radiating from him.

"Thanks for... breakin' the news."

My dad pat the officer's back as he went back inside closing the door, I stayed outside shivering in contrast to the warm rising sun. This was the worst, the consequences of my death were overwhelming, I screamed as I tried to pull my hair out.

I was shaking while I tried to break my horns, while I punched the air in frustration. Anything to tire out this tireless body of mine, anything to exhaust myself physically... but stamina and fatigue didn't apply to me anymore.

I watched as the officer walked to his cruiser, saying something to himself before going in and closing the door, as he drove away I turned back around to the front door. I was back at square one, wondering if I should go back in or leave, would I regret seeing them... seeing my parents mourn for me as I do nothing but watch?

I fidgeted with my snout horn as I decided I'd just enter, because if I avoided it, would I eventually grow fearing sadness? What if I became someone heartless, or more accurately, remorseless? What if my sadness became anger and I took it out on souls and spirits? My dad previously had anger issues afterall, it wouldn't be too surprising if I became enraged for eternity.

I clenched my jaw and fists as I counted down, once I reached one, I'd either go back in or leave. As always I imagined myself taking a deep breath, looking at the rising sun as I steeled my resolve again. Three, two, one.

I went back in, I decided to watch them grieve over me, I decided I will see them off when it's time. They're sad now, but I can only imagine the joy they'll feel knowing I was there the whole time, knowing I loved them even after death.

But of course... the wait would be long, it won't be easy waiting over two times my current lifespan to speak to my dad. Dragons on average live to their late five-hundreds, and my dad is in his early five-hundreds, I'll probably have to wait a century or two for my mother aswell since she's over a century younger.

After I phased back in, shaking from this unbearable chill, I looked to the left seeing something that would leave a lasting impression. I've never seen my dad cry before, but there was a lot of firsts I didn't expect, he just sat there letting the tears flow as he made a blank face towards the TV.

As I watched him I didn't know what to feel, but strangely I felt... alright. I floated to the coach, sitting to his left as I oscillated in the air. He was always a pillar in my life, he helped me develop a strong foundation, maybe that's why I haven't gone mad yet.

But it still felt strange seeing my dad cry, seeing tears flow over his silver scales and watching them soak and drip off his black beard. It wasn't as bad as I thought I'd be, but it still hurts, still hurts knowing my death is causing him so much grief.

"Fuck..."

I cursed as I continued to shiver, why did I have to feel so sad and cold at the same time? And why was it only starting to feel colder? Why can't this body warm itself up? Am I just reacting to my former instinct for warmth at this point, or was something else taking effect?

But what broke me off from my thoughts was the sound of a door opening, I floated to the left as I looked at the hallway, it was my mother. She's not going to take it well, she's not going to take it well at all. She walked into the living room with a smile on her face, but it immediately turned into an expression of worry as she saw my dad crying.

"Honey? What's wrong honey?!"

My mother darted to his side, my dad kept looking in the same direction as his expression remained unchanged, what did change was how loud his sobbing got as he spoke.

"Our boy... our bundle of joy, Fraya. Zane our son, he..."

"No..." My mother interrupted already guessing the context, tears welling her eyes as she went to hug my dad, he reciprocated as their cries became more audible. I kept my eyes on them, watching my parents mourn over my passing. I wished so badly that I could cry, that I could shed tears, but all I could do was shiver in this unbearable chill.

I decided it was enough and went to my room, this sucks, it sucks so much. I wanted to punch something, I wanted to cry, I wanted to feel warmth. But I couldn't experience any of that anymore, I'm cursed with immortality, cursed to live forever.

I decided to pretend to sleep on my side, as I floated in my bed. I don't know how long I was in bed for, hours... days? I didn't bother to keep track, I just didn't want to do anything, but then I heard my door open.

I sat up and descended through my bed as I saw my mother enter, she held a picture book in her hands as she made her way in with a foldable chair on her tail.