I don't remember lifting that brick wall off of her, or how much blood there was, what her crushed skull looked like. I didn't think I had that kind of strength, but apparently I do. I should've known something would've happened after last night. What we saw was not natural, not from this Earth. My little brother knew he was shooting at Death with his slingshot, but he wasn't the least bit afraid. What a stupid thing. She was so thin, dressed in all black and walking slowly down the dirt path, pushing along a covered cart.<br /> I was horrified when my little brother let the rubber band loose. I expected a scream, an angry shout...but nothing. It didn't react like a human at all, like the human I at first thought it to be. It simply turned its head, keeping our gaze through the window with its nonexistent eyes. It's movements were so robotic, the way it's head turned. At that moment I felt my whole body become cold, convulsing with violent shivers.<br /> It smiled, the corners of its mouth making a cracking sound that I swear I heard right near my ear, like a bone that hadn't been stretched in a long time. The Whistle Man could now be heard in the distance, getting closer. The smiling Thing looked back towards where the sound came, nodding its head like it was too heavy for its body, then continuing forward. Death hobbled with her cart, making a chattering sound with its teeth as it turned the corner. There was no shadow behind her in the moonlight to prove her existence.<br /> By the time the Whistle Man made it into our neighborhood shining his flashlight, only a glimpse of Death's long robes trailing behind her could be seen barely catching the light. Whistle Man held back the brake of his rusty bicycle in front of our home, shining his flashlight up towards our window as he stopped completely. He looked all around him before looking back towards us and nodding his head up: a question. I shake my head in response. We're safe, everything is fine. It's just two children who stayed up past their bedtime. With that, he continues on his way, blowing his whistle, the sharp sound ringing in my ears.<br /> For the first time, I turn to look at my little brother. He's gone, no longer squeezed next to me with his slingshot positioned. I lean over the railing, looking towards the neighbor's home on our left. Their window is open also, the balcony door that opens into their living room creaking slightly and curtains moving in small waves. I make direct eye contact with their cat, its bright yellow irises standing out against the white fur. He stares back for a long time before stretching its spine. I flinch at the sound of the small crack of bone. It leaps down from the balcony to the street below, closing its eyes and shaking its head at me before disappearing from sight in the same direction Death had gone.<br /> I try to stay calm and quiet, and it turns out to be surprisingly easy. I eventually hear soft breaths coming from one of the beds. The blankets are in bundle moving up and down, rhythmic like a heart beat. There is definitely something lying there, but I can't tell exactly what. I step closer, and just as I do, I hear a chattering sound. The bundle rolls over just as I'm about to reach out to grab them.<br /> It's my brother. Of course it is. He's slightly shivering and his teeth are chattering like he's freezing. I couldn't have simply imagined all of that, could I? He hadn't been asleep this entire time. I feel the cool breeze hitting my neck through the window along with my brother's chattering teeth and turn to shut the window. I'm taken aback when I see it has already been done for me, along with the closed shutters.<br /> Had they been open at all? I let out a shaky breath and lie down on my side of the bed, pulling up a thin sheet to my shoulders. I force my eyes shut, grateful to have my young niece sleeping next to me. She has completely stopped crying, not even a whimper escaping her lips. I suppose maybe she did believe me when I told her the woman banging on the window was just a tree branch obeying the wind. If I am being completely honest, I'd rather hear her quietly crying than my brother's chattering teeth in the other bed that won't let me forget.<br /> I get out of bed an hour before I need to, stuffing the rest of my brother's and niece's clothes into our shared suitcase. I wake them up when I hear the sound of my uncle's truck pulling into the driveway downstairs along with the loud conversation of other family members. The three of us head downstairs. My brother speaks nothing of last night, only goes to the kitchen to make a quick breakfast before we leave. I tell my niece to stay seated on the wood bench at the end of the garage while I guide my uncle to park safely inside.<br /> It's so incredibly fast how it happened. All I heard was a loud revving of the engine, screams, and then crash. I turn my entire body towards the bench where I told her to stay but all that is there are clouds of dust and debris. I hope for a few horrible moments that for once she didn't listen to me, that she had followed my brother to the kitchen. That is all that I remember.</p> </div> <div class="actions"> <button type="button" class="btn btn-inline btn-action" onclick="window.print()"><i class="fa fa-print"></i> Print</button> </div> </div> <div class="col-sm-4"> <div class="img-content"><img src="http://cdn.teenink.com/art/May04/WindowShadow72.jpeg" class="img-responsive"></div> <div class="img-copyright">© Mary A., Fullerton, CA</div> <br /> <div class="actions"> </div> <div class="panel-authors-comments"> <div class="author">The author's comments:</div> <div class="desc"><p> My mother told me of her experience of seeing Death outside her window when she was sixteen years old, a day before her niece was crushed to death by a brick wall.</p></div> </div> </div> <div class="col-sm-12"> <div class="actions"> <label class="content-label">Share</label> <div class="row row-p-5"> <div class="col-sm-4 p-b"> <div class="row row-p-5"> <div class="col-xs-4"> <a 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