I see nothing but darkness, and the fact that I saw a man disturbs me. What is his name?

Is he pursuing
me? Is it just me, or did a man’s figure appear behind those trees some time ago?

I have to leave right now. I don’t want to be guilty any longer. It’s disgusting to be in someone’s body for
twenty-four hours and then leave them lifeless.

I ran as fast as I could without knowing where these feet would get me. My feet eventually lead me
here, to this small, creepy house in the middle of the woods. It’s frightening to think that some elderly
lady with a cane lives here. Is there a witch on the premises? Perhaps they have this condition as well?
I’m too fatigued and thirsty to think about or be afraid of witches or ghosts. I think I’ll just knock and ask
if I can get some water.

I knocked three times but received no response. “Hello? Is anyone out there?” I ask as I turn the knob on
the open door. I suppose no one lives here because it’s an abandoned house. I noticed some strange
experimental instruments, etc. When I opened the door. Is it possible that this residence belongs to a
sinister doctor? I searched the house for a drink of water, but my curiosity pushed me to explore
elsewhere. There are numerous books, all of which are in good condition. If it’s been abandoned, it’s
bound to be dusty. The tools are likewise gleaming, and the smoke from previous experimentations is
still visible.

I heard footsteps behind me as my gaze wandered throughout the home, and I panickedly asked,
“Who’s there?!?” When I turned around, I noticed a man wearing glasses. “You’re finally here,” he said.

My heart skips a beat because he says that implies he knows I’ll come, and then I recall the guy outside
and grab anything close to me. “Don’t come near me! Who are you? How did you know I’d come here?
Are you the one who’s following me!?” I screamed.

“Calm down,” he said calmly, looking into my eyes. “My name is Joe, and I know who you are and what
you are.”

“I asked if you were the one who was following me!” I said, waving a wooden stick or something at him.

“No, I’m not,” he said. “Listen to me. I can help you. I already know who you are, so relax.” My thoughts
debated whether or not to believe him, but I chose to put down the wooden stick while remaining
vigilant.

“Who are you, and what do you know about me?” I ask as we maintain our distance.

He looked me in the eyes and said, “I’ve been tracing your steps, tracking every body that perished
because of you.” Is he saying that he knows I’m to blame for the deaths of the bodies I took
involuntarily?

Perhaps Joe could read the confusion in my eyes, so he continued to explain every detail he knew about
me and my syndrome.

“Reaper Syndrome.”

“I’ve dedicated half of my life just to finding out if it’s really true and how it can end. At first, I thought
my mind was just mixed up from all the fantasies that I’ve watched. But then you came. You are the
living proof that it does really exist. I’m intrigued by the pattern and the rumours about you from your
first to 36th body, but after a year, dead bodies started flooding the news, from televisions to magazines,
and it’s all about you. My curiosity got the best of me. That’s why I’ve started looking for you, keeping a
close eye, looking for the pattern, solving the mystery, and I must say, dedicating my whole entire life to
you surely paid off.” He talks while seriously looking at my eyes.

“What do you mean by paid off?” I asked, surprised. “Paid off because you have me trapped in this filthy
house of yours, and God only knows what kind of experiments you have planned.”

“I will not do such things; as I already stated, I can and will assist you.” His response is reassuring.

“But how?” I exclaimed, ignoring the tears that were streaming down my face. “If there was something I
could do to stop this syndrome, I could have done it many years ago!” “Can’t you see the wider picture?
I am sick, and thus it will never cease since there is no remedy that can stop this!”

“After years of studying and learning about you from magazines, television, and other news platforms,
I’ve come to the conclusion that there are only four theories that can cure you, but I’m not sure if these
theories will completely cure your reaper syndrome.” As I listened to him speak and explain things, I
knew he was telling the truth based on the looks he gave me.

Looking back on what happened this time, I don’t believe doctors are capable of assisting with this
sickness. It’s nearly impossible to find a cure, if one exists at all. Can this man beside me really assist me
in finding the cure? Theories? Even I, who suffer from the condition, have no idea how to deal with it or
how it is possible for me to move from body to body every twenty-four hours. He’s giving reassurance,
but…

“How can I be sure you won’t give up on me when I don’t even know who you are?” I want to cling to
the last ray of hope, but if I open my eyes, I have no idea who or where I am. Every day is a new body, a
new location, a new experience. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to contact him if I ask for his contact
information. I want to believe Joe, but my faith is eroding as time passes. “Can I get your phone
number?” I inquire, my gaze falling on his. “Don’t get me wrong, I just want your phone number so I can
call you if I wake up in a different body,” I defended. He spoke with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I won’t give
up and wait for you to come to me; I’ll help you till we get rid of this syndrome; I’ll give you my phone
number later; nevertheless, you must memorize it in case you leave Nicole’s body.”

Despite my reservations, I chose to believe him, and we spent the entire day discussing our strategy,
how and when we will test the theories, and how, if I open my eyes in a new body again, I will walk to
him to begin the theory. Today is the first time in my life that I have spoken without regard for my
demeanor or anything else about myself because the person with whom I was conversing knew the
genuine me. And one thought came to mind: “This is fun.”

After some time had passed, I awoke in Leah Ira, my 38 th body. She is a college student who lives in an
apartment by herself. I investigated the house as soon as I awoke, learning more about this body and
where I am now. I went outside and made a call after learning a few things. I’m happy that I jotted down
his phone number before slipping away from Nicole’s body. He urged me to come to him after I told him
where I was and who I was today, so I dressed up and prepared to travel to Joe’s place.

Joe’s house was 3 hours away when I arrived. Despite the fact that I was fatigued and Joe was taken
aback when a college student knocked on his door, he later recognized me and allowed me inside. We
next go on to the second theory. Yes, second, since when I was in Nicole’s body, we tried the first
notion. Hours have gone with no progress. We tried again, but it didn’t work. I’m frustrated, but I choose
to stay optimistic, so I have a positive attitude. I check my wristwatch and see that I only have 5 hours
before I leave Leah’s body, so I call Joe. While stroking my rumbling stomach, I remarked, “Perhaps we
should rest because we’re both tired and I’m hungry.” He laughed and said, “My acquaintance will be
here in 30 minutes, and we will eat together after that.”

I gave him an odd look because I was perplexed. Why would he want to introduce me to his friends? And
he’s friends with someone?! I assumed he was only looking into my unusual disease for himself. Is he
scared that his friends will discover that I am the reaper syndrome? I paid no attention to it because I
trusted him. It seemed like God didn’t like me today, so he made Joe notice my confused look, “My
acquaintance already knew about you from the beginning, he’s like a brother as well as a partner to
me,” he said, laughing.

I didn’t know what to do when his so-called acquaintance arrived after 30 minutes. “Hi, my name is
Samuel Wolkzbin, an acquaintance of Joe Coleman,” he says, smiling and reaching out to hug me. “My
partner here has been talking to me about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.” I accepted his hand and
responded, “I can’t say my name because you know I have a different name, but it’s nice to meet you,
Mr. Wolkzbin.” I’m not sure what I’m feeling, but I think I’ve seen him somewhere because his figure
looks familiar, or am I imagining things?

After getting along and eating dinner with them, I checked the clock and realized I only had 3 hours left,
so I informed Joe I needed to leave. I said my goodbyes and booked a hotel far away from them,
assuming that the second theory had failed today but hoped that the following two would. While
contemplating this, I am aware of my consciousness leaving my body. I’m also dizzy, which could be
related to the tests we did. I let my consciousness eat by the darkness as the moon shines in the sky.

I gasped when I opened my eyes because the pain was all throughout my body. I turn around to find
myself in a little room with bruises all over my body. Today I appear to be a boy. As usual, I visit the
house where I awoke to learn more about myself, and I discovered that this body is being bullied at
work. Despite my need for vengeance, I must prioritize myself. I drove three hours to Joe’s place to test
the third theory. Joe was hesitant to try it at first because of the state of Kevin Gomez’s body. I
persuaded him to go forward. We waited for 12 hours and nothing occurred. I can’t grin this time, and I
can’t force myself to be positive because I’m losing hope. Joe is watching me as I break down. Is that
everything? Is that all we can do to get rid of my disease? Is it really worthwhile to try in the first place? I
am well aware that I will never be cured.

Joe’s acquaintance approached us and suggested that we eat. I told them I wasn’t hungry, but Samuel
consoled me, and I wondered if this is what it’s like to have someone watch over you and care for you?
As Samuel persuades me to eat, I sigh. Joe gives me a room when we finish eating, and I rest there, still
not in the mood to chat to other people. I was lying in bed, wondering about what I should do if the
fourth idea failed as well. Will I suffer by this condition for the rest of my life? I spent my entire evening
thinking about that.

In my 40th body, I opened my eyes. I lost hope after staring at the ceiling for approximately an hour, then
a knock brought me back to reality. “Sister, are you up yet? Mom said you’d be late for work.” I also
heard a faint running sounds. I hate getting out of bed, but I have to. I’m Akira Shania Hoquera, a 25-
year-old office worker, and I’m doing my typical routine after waking up. I pretended to go to work and
drove to Joe’s house while her family was unaware that I was at her body. We then tried our fourth
theory. We’re all apprehensive, including Mr. Wolkzbin, since we’re hoping this will work out.

I cried for 6 hours, locking myself in one of Joe’s rooms because we failed. I lost all my hope. What am I
going to do now? Am I forever like this? I’m tired of making someone die emotionally by taking the lives
of someone whom they love. I’m tired of opening my eyes full of guilt because I know that I will kill the
person I am controlling. I’m tired of trying everything I could to make this syndrome go away. I was
crying so much while hearing the voices of Joe and Samuel in the doorway saying that I shouldn’t lose
hope. I’m really hurt today. I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I continued crying without knowing
that I had fallen asleep.

I was startled awake by the commotion, and as I opened my eyes, I saw Samuel and Joe below me, each
with a puzzled expression on their faces. “What are you doing?” I questioned, annoyed since I was still
tired and they were making noises. “You’re still here, and your body is the same as it was yesterday,”
Samuel said. With a puzzled expression on my face, I grasped what he had just stated. “What?!?” I
exclaimed as I rose up and examined myself in the mirror, confirming that I was still in this body. I
assumed he was joking, so does it mean we were successful this time? Is it true that I’m cured? I don’t
want to wake up in someone’s body and abandon them again. I couldn’t believe I was still here as I
examined every element of myself in the mirror, touching every area of my face. “What’s going on?” I
asked myself in the mirror, a brilliant smile on my face, “Did we succeed, Joe?” I jumped from happiness
while hugging the two of them. Joe was still confused, but he said, “I think.” Samuel joined us to
celebrate.

We’ve spent the last few days traveling, eating, and making amazing memories all around the world. I
was smiling the entire week because Samuel, Joe, and I tried everything I wanted us to try together. I
also became close with Samuel, who has become a father figure to me. We’re even closer now than Joe,
but we’re all content to spend our time together generating good memories.

I took a shower after returning home, and yes, I am now living at Joe’s house. I laid in my bed, reflecting
on the nice things that had occurred in my life during the previous several days. I went to bed wishing
that this would never end.

The universe does not appear to agree with me as I begin to have hope and love my existence. When I
opened my eyes, I realized I had entered my 41 st body. She has no name because she is homeless,
therefore I have no idea who she is or what she looks like. She sleeps on the street in her filthy clothing
and a cup full of cash. I sobbed uncontrollably because I thought I had finally overcome reaper
syndrome, but it appears that this is not the case. I didn’t go to Joe’s place after losing all hope because I
didn’t have any money and didn’t want to. I began to wonder why I had this syndrome after not eating
anything and simply drinking water. I’ve been joyful for the past four days, but with all the people who
have died as a result of my actions, I’m starting to regret laughing and smiling since I don’t deserve any
of it; I should be suffering from the guilt of killing people without their knowledge.

I was confused as to why I had been trapped in this body for a week, begging for food and money on the
streets. Not until I spotted Samuel on the street did I lose all hope. “Mr. Wolkzbin,” I say, my voice
cracking. Samuel looks at me, puzzled, until he realizes it’s me.
“I’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought you gave up. You’ve had enough. I’m here. Let’s go home,”
he murmured as he brushed away my tears, oblivious to my foul odor, filthy physique, and messed-up
face.

Because I can’t walk straight, I grasped for his hand and we walked together while he supported me.
Many eyes were on us on the street, but Samuel was unconcerned and concentrated solely on my every
step. When we got home, Joe hugged me, seemingly unconcerned about my situation or the fact that I
had been missing for a week. They allowed me to clean myself, trim some of my hair, and purchase
clothes and other necessities. This condition is really unpleasant. It allows me to stay in someone’s body
for a week, and now that I wish to switch, it allows me to stay in someone’s body for a week as a beggar,
begging every passer-by for a penny to satisfy my hungry stomach.

I’m happy that I spotted Samuel on the street because having a home is preferable to having nothing at
all. Even though we met again, I still can’t be pleased because I know I still have it. While I was away, Joe
proposed that we try everything he had come up with. Every day was like a movie because it gave me
different feelings, therefore we tried everything we could to get rid of this reaper syndrome. I thought it
was going to work out one day, but the next day, all my expectations were dashed. After a few years, I’m
on my 43rd body, and we still haven’t discovered a cure for my syndrome. I feel like a part of me is being
shattered every day, especially my grin; I’m so close to quitting up.

I locked myself in this room for several days, crying and suffering every night while feeling depressed.
Samuel and Joe broke down the door and persuaded me to spend a few days outside. And when I’d had
enough of crying, I told them I’d join them.

They attempted to make me happy by purchasing items for me, treating me like a princess every day,
and taking me to interesting places. I was annoyed at first, but then I grinned when I realized that I have
individuals who are prepared to go to great lengths to make me happy. I try to smile even when I’m not
feeling well, but there are occasions when I truly smile. This is not the time for melancholy. I should be
grateful for the things and assistance they provided. I mean, I’m still making progress, right? At the very
least, instead of dying every day, I can stay in someone’s body for a week. That is why I should be
pleased, and I should rejoice in my growth

Is the syndrome revealing to me the many stages of people’s lives? It makes me feel superior by waking
me up to some affluent and powerful person, sometimes simply an average female, a bullied person,
and now a beggar. I just feel like I’m learning while in someone’s body, but I also feel harsh after
remaining here for the entire twenty-four hours, which has now become a week, and leaving their body
lifeless.

Every day looks to be a battle since I still hurt and weep at night, but I am fine during the day. Days
passed, and I was in a different body. The situation is exactly the same. The owner of the body is a single
man with no relations. I only know Diana Hazel Fezia as a 25-year-old cleaner without a husband or
child. She became a beggar after being misled by a firm that promised her a fantastic and excellent job
abroad but instead left her with the hope of traveling with her money.

Thinking about anything and staring out the window in my room became my obsession while staying at
Joe’s residence. Every day, my two roommates try to make me happy, but it appears that they are
ineffective.
Joe then comes into my room, gasping for air, one day. He said something. “Samuel! Samuel’s gone!” I
exclaimed, startled. “What are you talking about? He was fine yesterday! You and Samuel have been
talking to me!”

“No, no,” he explained, “He’s been strange since last week, and he asked me some strange questions” I
ask, “What questions?” “Like what will happen if we can save you but have to sacrifice one life,” he
worriedly explained.

Joe and I are both shaking. I’m curious as to what he’s up to. What does he mean when he says
someone’s life is being sacrificed? “Let’s go. I think I know where he’s heading,” he said, taking my hands
in his and placing me in the passenger seat.

The whole trip was quiet. We’re worried about Mr. Wolkzbin. I hope my imagination was wrong. I
prayed and prayed until we got to our destination. We hurriedly went inside, and there, my whole body
froze. My tears kept flowing because I saw him sitting in the chair with some books, and it looked like
ritual things were around him, not moving an inch. Joe rushed to go to Samuel’s side, and I only stood at
the door watching him check his pulse. He said that he still had a heartbeat, so I rushed beside them and
grabbed Mr. Wolkzbin’s body. We had a connection, even though we were strangers, as if he was
treating me as his own.

He slowly opened his eyes and whispered, “Daughter, my daughter. I-I can’t tell you the truth because
I’m afraid you’ll hate me, my kid,” he gulped. “I’m your true father,” he adds as he stares me in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, father won’t see you happy after you get rid of the syndrome,” he said as tears welled up in
my eyes. “Months ago, I found a solution, but someone has to be sacrificed.” He took my hands in his
and said, “My child, I want you to live normally from now on. I wish you happiness.” He tried to reach
out to me and said, “I want you to smile brightly. Don’t blame yourself, I did it because it’s the only thing
I can give you as your father. Promise me you’ll be happy.” I nodded, despite my tears and pain.

“Can I hear you call me father?” He asked, forcing myself to grin and nod, “F-father.” My voice cracked,
and Samuel smiled back. I already knew when Samuel closed his eyes and Joe checked his pulse again
and looked at me with anxious eyes. My tears are falling like waterfalls, and I’m battling the want to cry
out loud.

I cried for hours while Joe stood silently behind me, quietly soothing me. “When I learnt about your
existence and discovered how his first daughter died, I already knew it was you, so I told him, from the
beginning, we already knew you were his biological daughter, therefore Samuel wants to make you
happy by doing everything,” he said.

“W- we both agreed that we would do anything for you,” he bit his lower lip as he stuttered, “but I
didn’t know Samuel would sacrifice himself.” The Joe I know is a strong man, but I heard a quiet sobbing
behind me. He’s crying.

Tears began to flow as I hugged my father tighter than the downpour. It appears that even the universe
is experiencing the same pain I am. Joe hugged me tightly and repeatedly apologized, words he
shouldn’t have said or perhaps should have said?
If I had known from the start that I still had my family, my father, I would have spent more time with him
playing, laughing, and creating memories. How many times have I wished to be loved by my father? I’m
always envious of the relationship between the family members of the individual whose body I got. I’m
continuously asking myself, “How does it feel?” But how can I feel and continue to make memories with
him if he’s already cold and lifeless in my arms? How many years have I wished to experience the
warmth of my true family, not the family of my physical body, but my own? Isn’t the world already harsh
enough? You first gave me this disease, and now that we know how to treat it, you trade my father’s
life! How messed up the world can be! Is it true that Gods exist? How can they be so cruel if they are?
They have no sympathy or concern for their so-called children!

After we got home in the evening, Joe gave me the key to my father’s room and told me that I should go
there to find out the whole truth, so I took advantage of the opportunity to wander around my father’s
room and saw a picture of a mother and a child in a bed, a man with a bright smile on his face playing
with his child, and a picture of three people, a father, a mother, and a child.

As I stared at these images, my vision blurred and my heart sunk. I guess we used to be a very happy
family.” I laugh to myself while forcing my tears not to fall.

If only I knew the person I’d been looking for was right next to me, I’d do anything to make up for the
time we hadn’t seen each other. I’ll make them feel the affection I desire for them. I have certain regrets
as a result of these events. When they were still alive, I should have hugged them all the time. When I
can still feel their touch, I should have told them I love them. I should have informed them how grateful I
was that they gave birth to me despite my affliction. When they were still with me, I should have given
them my best.

It’s been eight years. We’re standing in front of my father’s tomb, Joe Coleman and I. He always allows
me time to talk to my father about things over and over again every time we see him, but today will be
the last time I cry because I’ve determined that the next time I visit Father, all he will see is a bright
smile.

I told my father a story about how I went to the graves of everyone I’d ever had power over to apologize
and thank them, how I saw a picture of myself and my mother as a newborn baby, how I forgive myself,
how Joe and I get along, how I prepare myself for the bright future, how I fight those long nights of
suffering, crying, blaming, and pitying myself, how I know the sacrifice my father made and how grateful
I am, how did I know it was my father who was following me on the day I first met Joe, and how much
money they had set aside for my future? This is a stories I tell my father every time I see him. Alongside
Joe, who is a friend, companion, acquaintance, and listener all at the same time.

This day, however, is different. “Father, I’ve changed my name and will now present myself using your
surname.” I’m Dawn Kiah Wolkzbin, your first daughter’s 44 th and final body.”

I smiled and continued my conversation. “I’ve already forgiven myself, father, and now I’m living a
happy and successful life with my friend Joe; I don’t have Reaper syndrome anymore, and I’m living a
normal life now, as you always wished. I hope you’re happy now, as I am. I’ll continue to be happy and
enjoy every moment just like a normal person, just like you wanted; and the sacrifice you made will not
be in vain.”
Joe’s eyes are locked on me. Maybe it’s because I finally forgive him and my father, and also myself,
because if I had just lived a regular life from the beginning, I would have a lot of people around me living
happily, and the reaper syndrome victims are all alive and well. As I became aware of the difficulties and
sacrifices, I realized that I should be praising him for being the best father and wishing his daughter the
best.

I glance at Joe, my father’s acquaintance and my friend, after releasing the emotions and words that I
want to communicate. “Let’s go?” I say with a smile, and he smiles back, offering his arms. I noticed how
light I felt inside as we walked away from my father’s tomb. This is what happiness and forgiveness look
like.

As we walked away, I turned my head again and said, “Father, I forgot to tell you the meaning of the
name I picked. It’s a New Day, New Beginning.” I smiled widely and brightly as I continued walking to the
path that I chose because I know that this is not the end, it’s only the beginning.

The End.