A Life-Long Question

ARE WE DEAD?
(What? No, I wasn't making a reference...)

What I mean is, that that Hibernating Bear that is We, has tipped over the scale. Not enough berries in Fall, maybe? That fact is, no one has been posting: FALSE! No one has been commenting. I have been posting. And in some mix of frustration, confusion, boredom, annoyance (not to be confused with frustration), and a spurt of creative energy, I am posting again. So you'd better reply to this, or you might get your above mentioned question answered. Very. Soon.

So ever since I went to the Death-themed Halloween Concert a few years ago, I've been fascinated by the personification of death (Fueled only slightly by Terry Pratchet).

Truth be told, I've been toying with this idea of Death as a character in one of my books, and not as the antagonist, but as the Love interest in a love triangle. Can we say 'intrigue'?
This, however, is not death as you know him. In fact, he's not even the real Death.

Long ago (of course), The two equal, balancing forces of nature were predestined for love--no matter what. But while planning this fated companionship, Universe, like a few Romance novelists I could mention, was still young and Naive, and rather foolish. It made the terrible and all-too-common mistake of thinking that predestination=Insta-Love. But it didn't take Compatibility into consideration.

The two fated forces I am referring to are Birth and Death. They are the two forces that control literally every aspect of life as we know it--forever contradicting, always attracted by pure repulsion: Birth to bring, Death to remove, Birth to renew, and so on.

But such a relationship lead to a constant On/Off cycle. They were, sadly, the opposite in every nature. But this was to be expected, and in way, necessary. Then the real problem started...

Most parties agree that it started with Birth's boyfriend, but a few others say it was really Death, whose warmth and affection went cold, which--the first point out--stemmed from Birth's constant mood-swings and smothering tendencies--which were really because Death commitment issues (ironic, I know...)--which...

It was a tug-and-pull as infinite as the Chicken/Egg paradox.

Death became a workaholic, a Birth started to see other people, and when you're an eternal personified force of nature, there really aren't other fish in the sea. So the fish resorted to birds.
Ah, we asked, but where is the home built?

Fate, always the Romantic, said from the beginning that Death and Birth must have Love, like the perfect balancing point of a spoon on your finger. So, in a sort of see-saw that wasn't hitched properly in the middle, the Death portion swung around and a new player climbed on, the true love of Birth, or so Fate hoped.

Isaac, oldest son of Samuel Miller, got very dizzy on see-saws. When Birth pulled him on unwillingly, let's say he was less than pleased. Where there is love, there must be Death, and so he was.

One-sided love is like playing on a see-saw by yourself, as Birth found out, sadly. But you don't have a name like Birth by being a quitter. She tried all sorts of ways to make the New Death love her as much as she loved him. She tried everything she could think of to bring together the two totally separate worlds. She even insisted that he call her "Bertha." It was worth a shot.

Isaac Death discovered, as had the Old Death, that the easiest way to avoid Birth was to delve deeper in The Work. It wasn't terribly pleasant, but Isaac found himself getting somewhat decent job satisfaction. Only the infant deaths and miscarriages were really troublesome.

But Death managed. Sometimes he wondered what happened to the old Death. A horrible inkling in his mind said he was dead, which awakened a whole plethora of questions that, after his most recent experiences in the field, he'd rather not answer.
He was a rather good Death, anyone would tell you--if they could. He was usually polite, although impatient, and held on to the firm belief that Death should be personal, which only lead to the "Planner of Hell," he casually called it.
He wasn't completely lonely. Birth had her good points and there was always the Horse...
Contrary to popular opinion, Isaac is quite fleshy with blond hair and brown eyes and crooked teeth. He also talks to himself, but most people don't know that.

Eva is seventeen and not liking it. She is stubborn and argumentative. She looks at hypothetical situations literally. She dislikes children because they always stare. She is uncomfortable with her body weight, especially her baby-bouncing hips and disproportionate, tiny feet. She has long, straight, light brown/dark blond hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes. She likes punk rock, but you wouldn't know it looking at her. Eva's not totally contrary, of course: She can always make her best friend, Hannah, laugh until she wets herself. Eva is generally the no-nonsense friend all girls in her high school go to for sound advice--although, never with a party invite. Eva is also a competent flute-player, though she'd never admit it.
Eva has been afraid of dogs since she was attacked by one when she was three. In fact, she doesn't like most animals, except for cats, because they keep themselves to themselves and are usually quiet. She hates job-hunting, which is what she's been doing for the past six months. She doesn't like boys because they don't like her. She also can see Death, and hates him for it. Her ultimate pet-peeve is when people talk to themselves.