Game Over

All of a sudden, there I was looking at myself, lying in that bed, so many people around me. My feet couldn’t feel the ground and I felt numb all along my body. I was there, I saw my surroundings, I heard the voices, but it was like I was never there. And I wasn’t, at least not where I was standing right now. No. I was there all along but I was lying on that bed. Dead.

“She’s gone.”

I tried to move my feet but they didn’t flinch. I was stuck to the ground as if I was a weight that the gravity wouldn’t let move. I was stuck there watching myself getting carried away. My body and my soul. My current state was being dragged by my body like I had a leash. I felt myself being pulled as if by a magnet. I stopped existing for second before I found myself in the waiting room.

I could see the doctor. My mother was there too. She had an empty look in her face.

There she was. And I was dead.

The doctor offered her a sympathetic look that she refused.

“I want to see her.” The doctor nodded leaving, my mother following him. The same feeling from before came back and I was pulled, as if I was nothing but a cold breeze.

I looked at myself again. I was so pale.

My mother shivered and looked away from my body to look at the empty spare where I was standing. I wish she could see me but I was nothing but a breeze.

I had been extremely calm until now, that’s until the realisation hit me. I was dead. I died not long ago.

I stared at my body. I wanted to feel again, I wanted to be able to control my movements, my life. I wanted to exist!

I lunged at my body. I opened my mouth to scream, to make myself hear.

“Let me come back!” I scream but I was not heard. The only sign of my voice was a light movement of my long dark hair. Nothing but a breeze.

I got closer to my mother this time.

“I’m sorry.” I told her even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. “I was weak.” In the silence I could hear the faint sound of a tear falling to the ground. “I love you.”

“We have to take her to the morgue now.” A nurse said. I looked at my mother. She was silent, looking at my body. She was blank. She said nothing. Not protesting, not even giving the slightest acknowledge of the nurse.

I looked behind me at the nurse. She was coming towards me and before I could move to the side I was gone.

“So… she’s… she’s… gone?” I could hear voices around me. I recognized his voice.

“Yes. We’re very sorry.” The doctor told him.

Suddenly the black was gone and I could see them.

“Jason…” I whispered, half hoping he could hear me. There were so many things I still wanted to tell him. “I love you.” I said, my voice breaking. I could hear myself. I reached for him, trying to touch him, but my hand just went through him, like a knife but without the wound. He tensed up and wrapped his arm around himself.

A cold breeze. Right through him. Like a knife.

“I will always love you.” I wanted to know if he ever loved me back.
Could he ever love me back? Could he? No, because I was dead. I was dead and I wasn’t coming back.

A feeling of rebellion overcame me as I watched them all. My parents, curled up in a corner, crying. I had never seen my dad cry. He was crying because of me. It was my fault. I was their baby girl. I was the only one they had and will ever have. I was the one that left. I was the one that should be blamed.

Jason threw himself on the chair he was previously in. The hair I so much wanted him to grown, now covering his face, covering his sadness, covering his tears. I had never seen him cry before either, but he’s seen me cry so many times.

“Girl, I hate to see you cry.” His voice, so tender then, was now roughly screaming inside his head. Short, frustrated screams echoed in his blank mind. I could hear him, screaming for me to come back, much like I did before, but my body refused to listen.

“Promise me you won’t cry again. Girl, I hate to see you cry.”

I promised him but I had broken it so many times before, behind his back, and even now that I’m dead, that I don’t have a body to cry in, if I could, I’d be breaking that promise.

But cold light breezes can’t cry.

I reached for him again. He only embraced himself closer. I wish I could be there for him. I wish he would at least know I’m here.

They can barely make themselves feel.

I looked at my parents. I wanted to try and touch them too, but the idea of failing was so horrifying I couldn’t bring myself to touch them.

I wonder if this is hell. Maybe this is Lucifer’s sick and twisted way of telling me how wrong I was by doing all those bad things before. But why would he take such an interest in me that he would make me go through this? It’s not fair.

I wanted to hide my face behind my hands, fall to the ground on my knees and cry. But I couldn’t move my feet. I couldn’t move more than what Lucifer made me travel to increase my suffering.

On top of it all I could hear them. I could hear them clearly in a mix of voices inside my head. The screams. The pain. I could feel it. Maybe it was my pain. I was suffering for them all. I wish I could. I wish I could make their suffering disappear.

More voices joined them. I could hear the faint sound of confused whispers in my best friend’s voice. For a second, before they all became a background to my own screaming, to my own pain. They all became a noisy, messy background to my unfulfilled dreams and hopes. I was dead now. It was over.

The noise became louder until it blended with my feelings, with my surroundings with my thoughts, with my own voice. It all blended together inside my head to form a big black nothing.

There were no signs of anything. No pain, no thoughts. Just numbness. Blackness. And nothing.

This is it.

Game over.