I Am Death

Ninety-two

Marlon Sloan was shaking a little as he began walking.

The detective that had come to his house that day had intrigued him. He had told him to disregard the advice of his therapist. He had told him that he could do this himself, all he needed to do was to walk about a block outside his comfort zone and take it from there. Marlon had decided to try it.

He carried on walking past the end of his road, his comfort zone. About a block and a half later, he reached a small park at the top of a hill. His breathing was labored, but not because he was tired.

The detective had told him that that would happen.

Marlon found a bench, which faced a small green area, and had a seat. He concentrated on his breathing and on how much he was shaking. He was scared, no doubt about that. He wanted to run back but he forced himself not to.

‘You can do this,’ he told himself, focusing his attention on a cluster of trees. ‘You can do this.’

A few minutes later, the shaking had subsided and he was breathing just as if he were sitting inside his own bedroom.

Marlon could barely believe it.

He sat on that bench for about half an hour until he had mustered enough courage for the second part of his task.

As an elderly gentleman walked past the bench Marlon was sitting on, the boy turned and faced him.

‘Excuse me, sir.’ His voice was a little unsteady.

The older man stopped and looked at the boy.

‘Do you have the time, pl... please?’

‘Certainly.’ The man consulted his timepiece. ‘It’s ten past two.’

‘Thank you.’ Marlon breathed out, relieved, his hands still shaking.

The man went on his way.

As Marlon got to his feet and began walking back home, an enormous smile filled his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled like that.