You know… Maybe for some, dying slowly via infection from a failed kidney transplant might sound terrible. That's what Marie told herself for every waking second on her deathbed. But as the moment drew closer, it was probably for the best that she died, right? That's what she started to want after all; every needle, pain, and suffering she had to endure. Saving her boyfriend was the plan at first and of course that would have been the end… But you could probably have imagined the shock Marie had on her face when the doctors previously declaring it a success, came back with news that the transplant turned into a major failure.
By giving him a kidney, her boyfriend would be saved—but what about her? After a mishap with the surgeons, a major infection spread, and her body quickly worsened for the worse. Marie's parents tried their hardest to get a lawsuit, but whether they actually succeeded or not, didn't concern Marie. Not like the money would save her from death, but rather because Marie always had the feeling that her parents were doing it for the money, and not actually for getting justice.
Well. It was to be expected—she guessed. Her parents always liked her boyfriend more, for some odd reason.
Anyways, she thought to herself. It's not like worrying would make any difference. With a thud, a singular doctor entered—harshly closing the door behind him. The man took a seat close to her bedside, with a clipboard. The doctor wasn't young but was on the older side. He had rough features and a white beard, but even with all that, there was a clear sad expression written all over his face. With a sigh, he began talking; truth be told, Marie couldn't even pick up on his words. It was like those letters on soup that were always swaying. No words were making sense but she could have probably assumed what the doctor was trying to convey.
That her death was close by.
If her life was so meaningless, that her boyfriend left her, her parents and even the doctors felt sad for her—then maybe it was best if she went out early. Taking out the plug has always been seen as a joke, even Marie herself would joke about how if her boyfriend cheated and went into a coma, she would pull it. But it looked like, it was she herself pulling it out. Well if there was one regret, it would be that she wanted to spend more time with her friends.
With an overexerted cough, Marie turned her eyes to the doctor "Can I please get a glass of water?" The doctor looked up with a weak smile and nodded. "Of course." But as he made his way to the other half of the room, Marie stopped him again. "Can it be the water fountain outside? I always like the taste of it…"
As usual, the doctor didn't have a problem complying, after all. It was all he could offer to a dying girl. With another thud, the door got shut again—with fragile steps, Marie pulled herself up from her bedside, nearly knocking the pout of flowers.
Come on!
It was now or never. Right then left—Marie walked to the corner until she stopped, finding her IV tube was starting to resist, being lodged into her left wrist. With a bite into her lips, Marie pulled her arm away, ripping the tube alongside her skin and flesh. Shit!—she burst out in pain, but she persisted fourth.
With whistling, the doctor opens the door—holding a cold glass of water in his hand. Only to drop it as his eyes caught sight of what was happening. Marie was holding a cord connecting to her kidney infusion supply. Now, the doctor looked pale, while Marie gave a weak smile. "Thanks for everything, Doc." With these words, the plug was pulled, and Marie let herself fall to the ground. If only she had been given another chance, her thoughts wandered. Then maybe she would have been more content living by herself and not giving in to whatever her parents or boyfriend said.
Oh well. As the now doctors and nurses barged in, Marie's vision became all the more blurry until everything faded into black…
…
Huh? It was pitch black, but Marie could still feel herself moving somehow. Her limbs, fingers, and feet. They weren't there, and yet her sensation was more conscious than it ever was. Please—don't tell me, they saved me! Marie pleaded with whatever was left of her in this invisible void. Air suddenly began to burst around Marie's body, as if the very breeze was pulling her down. Where has she ever felt this kind of feeling before? Of right, that time she fell from the stairs back at her grandmother's house… Stairs. Falling…
With another bursting force, Marie woke up instantly, already lifting her head. As her hands grabbed whatever was there, the sweat began to slow down. The room before her was a lavish spacious bedroom, with medieval lights decorating every corner.
Marie was at a loss of words. This wasn't her hospital? Hell, it wasn't even a place she recognized. As she looked down, she couldn't even remember herself. Was she always this slim? Her straddling and flowing hair fell down her shoulders. They were bright blonde, folding into two tails. This was all too much—Marie pushed herself off the bed, her dress falling down to her ankles. As her eyes scanned the area, her gaze caught the attention of a mirror. With heavy steps, she inched closer—until her entire face was on display. With a loud smack against the floor—her knees found the ground. A door whipped open, and with what looked to be a maid entering. The black and white attire perfectly caught the glimpses of light as the woman entered. "Lady Elisha, is everything okay? I heard a loud bang." With swift feet, the maid pulled Marie up.
Elisha? This beauty with pearl blue eyes and golden flowing hair is ME?!