I'm so sorry...

Waking up alone, was in and of itself, the most painful thing that Sara had ever experienced.

Behind her eyes she could still see David's beautiful smile as he cradled her in his arms, and her ears were still ringing with his laughter from the time he twirled her around and ignored her teasing protests.

The room was dark, dead, and empty.

'I died again.'

Sara was laying on a thin cot, with several wires connecting her to a beeping machine on her left, and a simple bedside table standing at her right. Sara listlessly stared at the table's contents: her wallet, her phone, and also a cheap looking lamp.

'At least this time I remember how it happened.'

The lamp was currently turned off, and so the only source of light in the windowless room was the glowing buttons and screen on the machine she was hooked up to.

'At least this time I was able to fight back.'

Sara almost expected to hear the cliché BEEP from the machine as it tracked her heartbeat, but the cold thing remained uncomfortably quiet as it produced only the impersonal hum that followed all electric equipment that Sara was familiar with.

Sara stared at the dark ceiling above her, and she couldn't help but listen to her heartbeat pound through her chest and through her ears- and as she listened, she couldn't help but acknowledge that this heartbeat was fake.

That everything about this body was fake.

Sara allowed herself a moment to re-orient herself to her new reality, to remember that here she had no loving husband, and that her limitless future was no longer possible.

That everything she loved was out of reach, for the first time in her life.

Sara swallowed back her bitter tears, and forced herself to sit up.

She had never been one to wallow in self-pity, no, she preferred to attack everything head on. She had always believed that anything she wanted or needed was within her reach, and that all she had to do was put in the work and stubbornness to obtain it.

But now there was no one to fight.

There was nothing she could do. She couldn't investigate any shady dealings, fight for her freedom, or even go through the motions of getting a job or saving money.

There was nothing to fix.

Sara's eyes were once again drawn to the bedside table, and to the items sitting there so patiently. So innocently. The normalcy of the phone and the wallet actually made her want to shred them to pieces, because NOTHING about this was normal.

But Sara swallowed back the anger, the pain, and the self-righteous part of her brain that wanted to scream at the world that this wasn't fair- because that would accomplish nothing.

Instead, Sara calmly reached out a heavy hand, and picked up the phone that looked exactly like the old iPhone she used to have.

She cradled it in her hand for several moments, hesitating.

And then the darkness of the room brightened around her as she turned the phone on, and clicked on her short contacts list.

There were no personal names, no friends- only clinical business numbers.

Sara scrolled through these impersonal names until she located the one she wanted, and her finger trembled as it hovered over the DIAL button.

Sara took in a deep breath, and pushed it.

… ... ...

Listening to the phone ringing in her ear made her want to throw the phone across the room, and then pretend that she never called this number to begin with.

But…

But Sara couldn't forget David's chocolate colored eyes, or the way he looked at her when she walked next to him.

She couldn't forget the utter terror on his face when she was in that car accident a few weeks ago, and how he had screamed at the other driver and looked seconds away from ripping them apart with his bare hands until she touched his shoulder and assured him that she was fine.

But she hadn't been fine.

"Hello, this is the Request Center of the Afterlife Syndicate. My name is Elsa, how may I help you?"

That had been the most recent head trauma she had received, and it was also probably the event that aggravated her aneurysm to the breaking point.

Why hadn't she let David take her to the hospital?

"Hello Elsa, I was wondering if you could answer a question for me."

Why couldn't she have splurged and gotten a checkup? Why did she have to insist on saving that money for David's plane ticket?

"Of course! Ask away, and I'll do my best to help!"

He hadn't wanted to leave her, especially after the accident, but Sara had insisted.

"I was just wondering if I would be able to check up on my family members. Would it be possible to see how they are coping, with my death?"

He should have been all hers for months- and so she had argued that she could spare a week for him to fly across the country and see his parents. He hadn't seen them in almost two years, they had missed him.

Why...

"... I am sorry to inform you ma'm, that contact between the living and the dead is forbidden."

Why had she insisted?

"You see, if we let you see them, then you wouldn't be able to move on. You wouldn't be able to accept your death- after thousands of years of experience, we know that while this is difficult, it is necessary. I know that you are grieving, and I am sorry that I couldn't give you the answer you wanted."

Sara held back the sobs in her throat as she thanked the woman on the phone before hanging up, and quickly putting the phone back on the table- before she did something else that she regretted.

Why?

'Why did I have to die alone?'

Sara buried her face in her hands, and tried to stop hyperventilating as Elsa's voice repeated over and over in her head.

'Oh David, I'm so sorry.'

If she could contact her family or not, was one of the first questions that Sara had asked herself after accepting the fact that she wasn't dreaming.

'Why couldn't I have listened to you? If you were with me, then maybe we could have caught the aneurysm in time.'

But that day, in the apartment that was not theirs, Sara couldn't voice this question to Miss Cheryl.

'If you were there, then maybe you and I wouldn't be alone now.'

Because she had already known the answer.

'I'm so sorry I left you alone David.'

She knew that she wouldn't be able to contact them, because those damn bastards at the Afterlife Syndicate would have mentioned it immediately to help her cope if it was an actual thing.

'I left you alone- but please- PLEASE don't go back to the front lines.'

Why did she call them? Why did she break the promise to herself, and actually ask that damning question?!

'Don't join me here, don't throw away your life- You have so much left to see, to experience.'

Why did she have to crush the only hope left in her heart?

'Please, live on for both of us, baby.'

⧗

I'm sorry that I wont be there to see you accomplish your dream.

I'm sorry that I won't grow old with you.

I'm sorry that I broke your heart…

I'm so sorry David.

Please-

Forgive me.