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“1 out of every 18,158 baby girls born in 2021 is named Theia.”

It was this rare name that I received as a gift from a soul. Being always called by people “Reaper” or “Angel”, I never considered having a name as something important, at least for not-a-human-being like me. However, over time, without even noticing it, “Theia” became an essential part of my identity.

It was the third Monday of July when I spoke to this girl for the first time. She recognized herself immediately as I pointed with a motion of hand to a hospital bed, where a pale, gaunt body lay.

“Who are you? Did you come after my soul?” she asked frighteningly calm as if it didn’t concern her. Not a single tear was shed. 

“You’re about to die. Until that very moment it is my duty to be by your side and keep you safe.”

“And what then? Will I disappear? Or will you take me to hell?”

“Who knows. You’ll know when the time comes.”

She then sat on the edge of a bed with her arms folded. Her distant, pensive face finally revealed the first signs of frustration. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw her hands starting to tremble: that meant she was a human-being after all. 

“You cannot affect the physical world in this state.” I claimed as soon as I saw her hand reaching to the plate with big red apples. “But since you’re about to die, I’ll mercifully give you one chance. What would you like to do?”

With the face full of disappointment just a second ago, she looked at me with disbelief. “What are my options?”

“Whatever you want. Eating this juicy apple, maybe writing something on the mirror and freaking people out. Or-”

“What about killing someone?”

Not expecting to hear such a thing, I abruptly fell silent. She then repeated the question, and no matter how calm she tried to seem, a voice full of pain and suffering betrayed her. As I nodded my head affirmatively, a barely noticeable tear rolled down her cheek.