The Death Beyond Living

Purple Socks - Scifi/Romance

In a future world with access to time travel, a journey unfolds of a girl, blinded by love, and her reluctance to accept reality.

Disclaimer: Mentions of death, minor swearing, mentions of terminal illness, sensitive topics, angst-heavy, etc.

-

"There's another place downtown, if you'd like. I'm sure they open until late hours."

I paced through the apartment, eyes glued to the glassy surface of my phone as I desperately scrolled past bright colors of advertisements, hoping to catch one for a restaurant that closed late into the evening. Whatever I could do to distract myself from intruding thoughts, I would.

"No, no, no, no, you don't even know the right place to look for remotely good restaurants-" Wilbur snatched the phone from my hand, anxiously skimming through the same images I had already looked at. Defeat resonated in his eyes.

I sighed. "Uhm, how about this, I'll make a little something for myself at home before I pay a visit to Reina, so you can eat somewhere nice earlier in the evening?" I let myself sink into the leathery soft cushions of the worn chocolate couch. "That way, you can have dinner wherever you want, and we can avoid all...this."

Wilbur's eyes gleamed. They easily did. "Are you sure?"

"Why not?" I could only muster a tired smile. "I'm sure you would love a break from eating takeout at home, anyways."

"Lovely." He planted a kiss on my head, a foot already halfway out the door. "I'll be back before midnight, I promise."

"Counting on it."

"But for goodness sake, you've been visiting her so often, give yourself a break!"

The door closed in his wake.

- - -

London hospitals are busy as shit. In the mess of running nurses for the newest ambulance coming in, I blindly meander past lost-looking patients, the sterile fumes of the white-tiled building getting to my head.

I can't imagine staying in a place like this for months on end.

I imagine Reina.

"Ah, Charlie!" The familiar call finally marks my destination at the check-in desk. "Well, it seems like Reina's got quite the fan!"

"Hi." I say with a smile.

"Here ya go," The voice behind the plexiglass panel slides the keycard beneath a hole in the glass, the labeled engravings on thin plastic threatening yet another anxiety attack. "Have a good one, alright sweetheart?"

I find my voice unusually dry.

"Thank you."

504 - Critical Care

They're latient, but I can nearly smell the layers of fingerprints and sanitation those elevator buttons have been through. Besides myself, three others stand in the elevator in solidarity, either typing away on handheld glass rectangles, or staring at the other glass rectangle mounted on the inside of the moving metal box, awaiting the next floor as if the grim reaper himself were there.

Quite honestly, I can't help but wonder if this is where Mr. Reaper spends his pastimes. I know, it's dark, but death itself hasn't found a way to scare me yet- the end is inevitable. For all of us.

Which is why being in a hospital doesn't bother me much, perhaps.

"Hey," I snapped back into fluorescent lights. A pale man in a worn suit besides me glances expectantly. "This is your floor, is it not?"