This work is inspired by a YouTube video posted by oliviaalee, posted April 21, 2021.
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You ducked under the line of awnings, pausing to catch your breath as the crowd pressed by, heads bowed towards their feet and hands over their heads as the rain, unforgiving, pressed down in sheets. You clutched the paper-wrapped package close to your chest, protected under the thin fabric of your flimsy jacket. Miraculously, it had been the only thing to remain dry as you made your way into your apartment, shedding your drenched clothes, leaving a wet trail in the foyer.
Shivering, you grabbed the throw blanket draped over your sofa and draped it around yourself, collapsing on cushions and softness with the package still clutched in your grasp. Your weekly trip to and from the corner bookstore, it seemed, had been more chaotic than the last week's, but as you carefully unwrapped your latest purchase, a satisfied smile spread across your face.
It was a simple book, a single silver vine bordering a navy blue cover, but one that had piqued your interest with little effort. You had, without even pausing to open it and read the blurb in the inner cover, purchased it, hand unwavering as you handed your card over to the smiling bookstore cashier. He had hesitated, you remembered as you ran your fingers over the delicate silver vine, and glanced at you (to your confusion) as if you had a shared secret.
"Good choice," he had said, hands deftly wrapping up the silver and blue in rough brown paper. "This is one of my favorites - brings back memories."
The spine cracked as you opened the unyielding cover, comfortably settling into the sofa and blanket. As your eyes absorbed the first line, though, your eyebrows furrowed, rereading the lines that impossibly seemed too familiar.
"Her skin was pale, the life in her lips and eyes absorbed by the glowing water around her. Ripples, feasting slowly on her sinking form, dragged her fingers and arms down into their frigid embrace. My eyes, stiff from the salt of my tears, roved over the cheeks I had stroked, the hair I had tangled in my fingers, the fingers I had grasped in my own.
'Good choice,' Death said, his freezing touch sending icy needles down my back in a grotesque form of comfort. 'Now try again.'"
You gasped, suddenly no longer in the comforting pile of blanket and fabric, but instead surrounded by cold, cold, water. It stung your eyes, slowly but surely filling your lungs as you struggled to lift your arms, the cloudy sky above you mocking the air that evaded your desperate, gurgling gasps.
"Good choice," you heard, as the world turned black. "Now try again."