He was a soul too after all. He left it behind eventually, he was a weary soul, after you. You were just like him. Restless, tired, exhausted, worn out. Tortured, agonized. You haven't seen a single day of comfort in your life. When he entered your place to take your life, he immediately changed his mind. He saw how weary your soul was...Just like his. He dropped his scythe. He gave up on it. He stayed there, he stayed there for years. Ghosting in your house. He always played with your white sheets to spook you, to make you laugh and thrill. He didn't want you to end up completely dead and rotten like him. But you never even smiled. He got into your house. He got into your sight. He got into your dreams. But you didn't react. So he decided to leave. He folded your white sheets neat and tidy, leaving them on your bed. He was about to leave your house, he paused, he turned around and looked at you. You, for the first time, you smiled, and waved. And damnit, he changed his mind, again. He turned around, heading back into the house, further and further, towards you.