Short Story: The Choice

I never meant to die. What I mean, of course, is I would die like everyone else does, but to die at the exact time and date I did was never in my plans. I was to grow old. It was just that the life I had didn’t afford me hours longer than it did. I’m not sure how I died. Death is merciful for the last moments. But I can remember my life, and death doesn’t offer me forgiveness there. All my bad decisions follow me. What takes hold of me is the understanding of the restricted vision I have for life. My life.

But that’s not why I am here still. My life is gone. That much I have accepted. But there’s something else. This insatiate hunger to see you. All those who I had met, who I loved, and who loved me… or else it was all in vain. Death gives you clarity like that. My life was never about me or the one. My life was about us. Yours, too. I was just too wrapped in my suffering to notice that you existed around me, that I’m tied to you through those colorful ribbons that make up all the connections existing between us and the rest. And there I was. Dead, needing to feel alive again. I tucked a ribbon, and there I was, with you. And here I still am.

I try to catch a glimpse of myself in the new standing mirror you bought from a flea market. But more so, I watch you move around your apartment and live your life. I don’t know how to tell you that I’m still here. Sometimes, you stare in my direction, smell the tobacco I used to smoke, and stand there as if you could see me, but then you shake off the feeling and move on. In those moments, I wanted to touch you and say it was okay and that it was all my fault. I let go of life, and I shouldn’t have. I can’t. But I can’t leave you either. I have been given a choice. Death has granted me one action to take to alter the lines that tie us to our futures. I can see yours only so far. There is cancer and sorrow.

Your life is not the only one I’m tied to. You have to let me know if I will use my one act on you or your sister or that boy who will be run over by a car a block from your home. I have only one act to give. It’s yours if you ask.

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day.

P.S. It was fun to write a short story in one sitting. It has been such a long time since I have done that. One day, I was mulling around the idea of what would happen if we could alter one thing upon our death. Would we use it for our loved ones? Would we use it for the general good? What if we only see just beyond a few steps and not the rest of it? I think there could be a whole book about the subject. There could be a clash between the decisions of all the dead, and there could be those who can’t take that one act because it would mean they would have to move on with their deaths. Maybe one day I will write a book about that.

© K.A. Ashcomb