Yes

Short story

“He’s crashing!” The doctor shouted. “Room 4, now!” The aged man trailed behind the small posse of nurses and EMTs. Flipping through medical papers, while listening to the EMTs, the doctor furrowed his brow. Blood type: A+. Age: 27. Visible broken bones, lacerations covering the face and arms, large bruising on the chest. It was a miracle he was still alive in this state. The crowd easily slipped into the empty emergency room and began working on their patient.
    The young man’s eyes flickered open. His mind raced, sluggishly drawing conclusions. ‘Where am I? What’s happening?’ He thought. ‘Scrubs? I’m not…’ Pain overwhelmed his thoughts. His entire body felt broken. ‘GOD! MAKE IT STOP!’ He tried to scream, but his body wouldn’t react. The scrubs ran around bed, poking and prodding. Not even his head would move to view what they were doing. A small comfort, not viewing the extend of the damage done.
    Staring up at the ceiling one of the nurses finally noticed his active eyes. Her mouth moved, but nothing reached him. His eyes glazed at the woman’s snapping fingers. No real reaction to justify more attempts. There was more needed to be done and time was running out.
    A coolness coursed through his veins, dulling the pain. Praise to God would not be enough for the relief. The ceiling gave no sympathy. Its own existence dull and cold. A flicker of the light drew his attention. His sight grew clearer to notice the light was not to blame, but a slithering shadow creeping over the ceiling tiles. Fear overcame any pain, but still his body would not yield to his demands. Slowly the shadow hovered above him, its presence invisible to the scrubs. Eyes widened as a black smoky tendril stretched like a root until stopping just before his forehead as if unsure. Before he could question its purpose, the tendril struck enveloping his head in complete opaque darkness.
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    His eyes fluttered open again only to a brighter scene than before. The ground was soft with mulch, swing sets and slides surrounded a gazebo. Several women conversed at a picnic table as a dozen children ran about playing tag. This playground felt somehow familiar. Déjà vu from a distant dream.
“Hello?” He called out to the women, but none turned to the sound of his voice. “HELLO?” He shouted. Still nothing. From the edge of his view one child broke off from the group heading for the gazebo. He was going to try to run under the table, but even from that distance he knew the kid wouldn’t make it. “HEY! Kid! Duck!” But it was too late. The collision rang throughout the playground as the kid dropped unconscious. As the mothers flocked around him, the man stood in shock. Fingers shakily rubbed a slight bulge protruding from his forehead. The first scar he got at the young age of five.
The scene melted away to another of two virtually naked teens fumbling nervously with a small foiled package. The girl he knew ages ago. The boy was... him. Standing in the corner looking down at his younger self, he felt awkward intruding on such a private moment. He wanted to speak, but from the last scene he knew nothing would come of it. ‘Am I really witnessing my life flash before me?’
This was both their first time. He shied away facing the opposite direction as repressed memories flooded back. The two were young, naïve. After not too long he found her crazy surrounded by a crazier family. Although he broke up with her and completely cut off contact, he knew it made him stronger. The sounds of the teens made him curse for the brief moment there.
    Again the walls disintegrated, reforming to a small candle lit apartment. Before he saw another version of himself kneel, he knew what night this was. April 6, 2016. The night he proposed to his girlfriend of three years. The one night he truly held his heart on his sleeve, and she rejected him. That night was tonight.
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    A burning pain filled his chest made him clench eyes shut. He wanted to wither away to avoid the pain. When he finally opened them again his body lay bloodied, bruised and broken on the table in front of him. A surgical team filled the operating room diligently trying to mend his wounds. Opposite him a young woman stood staring directly into his eyes. Neither of their spectral essences gave influence in the sterile room.
    Before he could question her presence the woman spoke. “Come with me and be free. Come with me and you’ll see. Feel no pain, no misery. Come be free for all eternity.” Her voice was innocent as her pure white sundress. Brown braided hair came to a pony tail flowing down over her shoulder. Her skin was pale as a ghost. She looked almost childish, but radiated an essence identical to the black shadow that swallowed him before.
    “Who are you?” he questioned. The poem rung in his head like an old nursery rhyme. She stood motionless. Her face blank. Whether she heard him or not, she gave away no intent to answer. Switching between the woman and his own pale figure the young man continued. “Am I going to die?” Again all he received was a blank stare.
He could feel his blood rise and face flush as he burst at the woman. “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? What did you do to me!? What the f**k did those f*****g bits of memory have to do with anything!?” The heart rate monitor went wild throwing the surgeons into a frenzy. Blood spilled from the open wounds. He could see his face grow paler, growing thinner. “I’m dying.”
Still the woman ignored his fuming rant. No, she wasn’t ignoring him, but waiting. She stood patiently not for his questions, but for his response. The young man sighed taking one last look at the broken figure before him. The creature there now a stranger. So many desires not met. So many events regretted. With one last deep breath he let it all wash away. Meeting the woman’s gaze with his last once of air he replied, “Yes.”

Author's Note

Ignore grammar for the most part, it's a first draft. Please leave any notes and impressions. Thank you.

Reviews

[Jessica]

I really really liked this (I usually don't like this kind of story but this was great) you should keep going with this type of stories and make like a short story book relating to a bunch of different deaths (just a thought).

Sorry it took so long to reply, I've been super sick lately >.