Young Writers Society

November 19th

October slowly opened her eyes. A blinding light shown from above. Her entire body ached. Her vision was blurred, and she could smell decaying flesh and chemicals all around her.

“Hello?” She called out. The last thing she could remember was losing control of her car, and crashing into a tree. Then she remembered Oliver, who had been with her at the time of the accident. She had already come to the conclusion that she was in a hospital, but since there were lights blinding her she couldn’t see anything very well. She was lying on her back, but when she tried to sit up, she found she couldn’t move.

“Someone help!” She called desperately. “Oliver?” There was no answer. Her eyes began to adjust to the light, and October squinted at the sudden change in atmosphere. She was in a white room, laying on what must have been an operation table. But she was all alone, and there just some hospital equipment pushed up against the wall of the room. To her right she heard a door open. She looked over and saw a woman dressed in white enter the room. She sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank god you’re here. I was so worried… Do you know if Oliver Green is okay? Is he here?” She asked. She still couldn’t move. The woman didn’t answer her, but instead glanced at her like she was just another piece of equipment and started doing various chores.

“Umm, miss? Can you please tell me what’s happening?” October tried again in a desperate plea, staring at the woman. She was young, in her early twenties October guessed, and had short pointed ears surrounded by thick black hair and a twitchy tail. Her eyes were green and darted from one place to the other around the room; her small pink nose was crinkled, and her fangs showed slightly in a grimace.

Finally, the woman walked out of the room and came back in, wheeling a gurney with a large black bag. Her eyes darted over to October, and back to the gurney. She pushed a button on the wall with her slender index finger and said in a gasping voice into the intercom, holding her nose, “I’m going to need some help in room eleven.”

October grimaced. She realized that this was a new nurse, probably this was her first day on the job and she had no idea how to act. October tried glancing down at her body, and she saw blood staining the hospital gown. An unusual amount of blood. And she saw a lot of large gashes in her arms and legs. She began breathing hard. Why wasn’t anyone taking care of her?

Soon after the nurse had pushed the intercom button, a few more experienced-looking nurses came into the room and gathered around October. They were all talking amongst each other, and suddenly they lifter her off of the operation table and kind of shoved her into the plastic bag.

“Hey! What are you doing?” She asked in a panic. She looked up at the morbid faces. One of the male nurses pulled a strip of paper from the table and attached it to her right foot. She looked down at it in horror. She could just make out the small print:

October Melbourne- December 13th, 1994-November 19th, 2008

October gaped at the tag. “Wait! Wait! I’m not dead!” She screamed, trying desperately to move. The same nurse who had tagged her foot slowly began to zip up the body bag. October closed her eyes and screamed, trying with all her strength just to move her arm, her hand, anything that would show a sign of life. But as the bag was zipped over her head, she knew there was no hope. That one line ran through her mind over and over, “October Melbourne- December 13th, 1994-November 19th, 2008”.

Realization

October stared into the blackness. She had no idea how long she was laying in the body bag. At first she was terrified that she would suffocate, but after a while she had just started hoping that something, anything would happen. She still couldn’t move, and her body still stung.

Suddenly she felt something tugging at her arms and legs. She glanced around, but all she could see was the blackness created by her prison. The tugging increased, and she felt her hand contract and relax on command. She laughed joyously, feeling her body shake with happiness. In a clawing motion, she flung her left blood-stained arm into the air, then her right arm. It felt like she was swimming through gelatin as she clawed herself through the air o get into a standing position. Light from the room burst into her vision, and all of the pain she had previously felt was gone, but as she looked herself over she was horrified to find that large chunks of her flesh was missing, and the bottom half of her tail was sliced in half, revealing the bone.

October was too horrified even to call out for help. She was surrounded by body bags, and when she looked down she saw that she was ankle-deep in her own black bag. It was still zipped, and the shape of a body could still be seen through the plastic material. She shakily climbed down from the gurney, and unzipped the bag. She screamed and stumbled backwards. There she was, lying with her eyes closed in the plastic bag. She zipped the bag back up, too horrified to stare at her own corpse any longer, and began to sob.

After a while she felt the same tugging sensation, only she felt like she was being pulled towards the tile floor. She collapsed to the ground, and when she tried to stand, it felt like someone was pulling her back. She felt her arms slip through the tile, then her head, then her body. She screamed as she tumbled into the darkness she thought she had escaped. But this was worse; more extreme, this darkness seemed to swallow her and hold onto her. And this was the last thing she needed to come to the horrible conclusion, the one she had been fighting all this time. She was dead.

Finding Oliver

October opened her eyes. The blackness still surrounded her, held onto her. She clawed her way through it, trying desperately to find a way out. She spun around, looking for any source of light. Why was she alone? If she was dead, surely there were other people, someone; anyone to share this fate with. She let out a choked sob of frustration as she fought through the darkness.

Finally, she heard a voice. It was a man’s voice, giving an order. A long, steady, high-pitched mechanical tone. The sound of footsteps and the clanging of metal against metal, then finally the morbid murmur of a voice, “He’s dead.” October waited for hours in the pitch black, listening to the noises, a door opening, screams and sobs, hushed whispering, frantic voices, a mixture of emotions, every emotion that accompanies death. The word seemed like a surreal word to October. How long had she been dead? How long was she in this nightmare world? Was it all a dream, her imagination? Maybe she wasn’t dead. Maybe she was just insane. No, she told herself, she wasn’t dead, being dead is being dead. There’s no such thing as ghosts, she told herself. She began to make up a story. She had been in the car crash, and Oliver had died while she watched. This was horrible for her, so horrible that she decided that in her subconscious she replaced him with herself lived out this nightmare for him without her realizing. She was still in the hospital, she’d hit her head, and she was in a coma. This was what it’s like to be in a coma… blackness, pain.

Finally she caught the scent of formaldehyde. She clawed towards the scent, and she heard the zipping of a body bag. About twenty minutes later, she thought she heard Oliver’s voice.

“Oliver?” She called, a burst of hope exploding inside of her. She couldn’t help but smile despite her horrible situation. “October?” Oliver’s voice calling her name was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. “October, what the hell’s going on?” He asked. He sounded so distant. October began to answer, but stopped herself. Did she know what was going on? She thought for a moment. Finally, she took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes.

“Oliver… I think we might be dead.”

October listened desperately for Oliver’s voice. Finally it came in a choked whisper. “I… I don’t understand. We… can’t be dead!” October nodded even though she knew Oliver couldn’t she her. She couldn’t even see herself.

Suddenly, October saw something in the blackness. A hand. “Oliver!” She cried, grabbing onto his hand. Oliver came tumbling into the blackness, but he didn’t stop. October tried desperately to hold onto him, but the blackness seemed to be swallowing him. His fingers slipped through her grasp and with a scream he disappeared into the darkness. “Oliver!” She screamed. “Oliver!”

But it was too late. He was gone.