Arcane Immortal

Some kids are playing at the hospital ground.

I stare at them nonchalantly, but still wondering from where they get the energy. The kid with white hair, Joseph, a patient of thyroid cancer, is currently holding hostage of a handball and wiggling with it. Another kid with constant attachment to tissue papers, Liana, diagnosed with acute pneumonia, is provoking him to pass the ball to her. The kid who seems a bit older than them, James, standing with the help of a crutch instead of a leg, watching them from aside and giggling at times.

Maybe I've had my fair share to live, maybe because I'm not young, maybe life hasn't been always fair to me, I can't feel joy like those kids. But it's alright, as I think to myself, since everything is bound to end one day and I'm no exception.

Hearing the click of the door, I look away from the window. Jenna, my little neighbour, enters the room with cheerful steps. I'm not sure if it's because of the pink ribbon on her hair, but she's looking brighter than usual.

"Miss Hazel!" she runs to my bed where I'm lying down, her eyes are brimming with excitement. "The nurse said I could take of the stickers off my hands today! Look," she attempts to show me her wrists, considering this as a big achievement.

"That's great, Jenna," I chuckle, feeling a bit better in my empty mind. "I hope you'll need those less in the future."

"Thank you! But I miss home though," she pouts and leans on the bed edge carefully. "I'm sure my dolls are crying in sadness since I'm not with them! By the way, Miss Hazel," she tilts her head towards me. "Will you come see my dolls one day, you know, when everything gets better? I have lots of them, which will make even you envious!"

I smile softly, "Sure, I will, if your parents allow me to. I'll make sure I visit you and your dolls, Jenna."

And I wait for the guilt to hit me for lying to a kid. Some things can't be changed and I'm a mere creation of the universe, I don't have much power to exceed my limitations.

When the sun sets, I slowly adjust my bed to lie down comfortably. That's what I have been doing for the past year, lying down, taking my pills according to the rules, savoring bland, antiseptic foods if I feel like it and use my every bit of strength to hop on the wheelchair and hover my way through the hallway.

I must have dozed off for a bit, since there are two whispering voices in the room. I immediately know who they might be, since they check up on me regularly to see if I have already used my ticket to the afterlife.

"Babe, I want that golden lined dress," I can imagine my sister hanging from the soon-to-be husband's neck, pouting and puffing her cheeks. "It's so cute, I really, really want it."

"But sweetie, it's so expensive, can I really afford it? You have to understand me," the husband softly tries to turn down her request.

"But I want that dress. And you love me, so you'll buy it for me at any cost, right?"

"Listen to me, sweetie."

"What about the life insurance money?" I can feel her glancing at me even with my eyes closed. "You talked with the company, right?"

"But we ain't getting the money until your sister dies. You know how the rules work, so why don't we go with the dress I chose?"