The beeping of the machine next to me grew frantic as I tried to sit up. One last time....just one last time...
The large room I'd been in before had changed. There was a mirror with nurses watching me day and night behind it, the room where people could only wait for their death. I knew, because this was where my older brother had died before me. Him, my grandparents and maybe even my parents, though I hadn't been conscious when they died.
We had been in the same room before, a family. Victims of the war, dying of some chemical wonder modern scientists dreamed up and the enemy bought on the black market, or so they said.
Of course I was dreaming of reincarnating, being healthy and happy and together with my family and friends again, but that wasn't likely. Online there were stories of people saving kids by pushing them out of the way of a white truck, only to be rewarded with a second life.
That hardly applied to me. No, I was just a normal student studying economics at our local university, working moderately hard to get average grades. Yes, I could have done better, but I was not something who lacked a social life or was so ambitious I wanted a steep carreer. My dreams were of a good job, a nice flat, having fun with my hobbies and great vacations. Maybe get married in a few years when I was about thirty and would want to settle down, have kids and all that. But that was far in the future for the me that was enjoying my early twenties as a uni student.
I sank back, not feeling any pain, but still too powerless to do anthing but look. My eyes and ears still worked, but I could hardly feel my limbs anymore. It was a slow death nobody could prevent, not even those who had thought up that chemical wonder. The strong painkillers took away all pain, but nothing else could be done, I knew.
I can't say I was looking forward to death. It was just a silent waiting. My brother had raged. My grandmother had cried for us, saying it wasn't right for us to die so young. My grandfather had made demands nobody could fulfill, talking about laws and judges and money without end. But what would a dying family need millions for? It was futile. My mother went silent and expressionless, wouldn't even speak to anyone anymore. My father...my father called his bosses, told them what he'd always wanted to say and then slept with the male co worker he had apparently been interested in for years. It turned out that he married my mother because he felt he was supposed to get married and she just happened to be there when it was time.
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As for me...when I still could I went to concerts, parties, played games, talked to my friends. When I couldn't do those things anymore I read books, watched movies and dreamed of what might have been.
My eyes grew too tired looking at the mirror wall now so I closed them. There was only the beeping my ears still caught that told me I was still alive.
It was the last time I found the strength to open my eyes. I still dreamed of a life, but the beeping had grown dim. I couldn't feel anything even if someone were to touch me or move me. They said the vital functions and the brain were the last things that shut down. Before I had seen my family just lie there, seemingly sleeping. For a few days they had just slept until their bodies gave up. I knew I had to be the same.
And then the beeping stopped. I waited, patiently, for my life to run out.
After an eternity something changed. I felt. Though the feeling was different from what I remembered. I tried opening my eyes, but found that I had no idea how that even worked. I just didn't know how.
It was warm and I could feel something around me. I knew I was connected, not alone. smiling had become a memory as dim as opening my eyes. And so...I just was.
((For the next chapter I'm going to switch style to third person and after that I'll probably try various things, so don't be surprised when it happens))