Take My Hand

Irene opened her eyes, groaning. Her head was foggy as she lay in her hospital bed, her meds wearing off. She went to sit up, but her head flared with pain, causing her to groan and clutch her skull. Irene glanced around, gaining her bearings and trying to discern where she was.

She was in a... hospital room? White walls, with that hospital smell. Irene noticed an IV in her arm, dripping some kind of liquid. As the pounding in her head slowly subsided, she noticed her right arm was bandaged completely and that her head and left eye were covered in gauze and bandages as well.

“W-what... what the Hell happened?” Irene muttered, unsure what she was doing here.

“Give yourself a second, you’ll remember momentarily.” A voice said to Irene’s left. She snapped her head around, startled, causing her head to flare in pain again. She cursed as she glanced over.

A teenager, looking about seventeen or sixteen. There weren’t any clues to gender identification that Irene could see. They wore a black hoodie, with tattered gray jeans. Black hair that fell down to their jaw, jagged and messy. Silver eyes sunk deep into deathly pale skin and dark circles under their eyes. However, what really unnerved Irene was the aura and the presence of this person. It’s like they radiated desperation and hopelessness.

Then, it hit her. She’d been at a party and had a little too much to drink. She’d insisted to her friends she was fine to drive home alone. She’d been wrong. Irene had run a red light, getting t-boned by a pick-up truck and tumbling into a ditch. Then,... nothing.

“I almost died!” Irene gasped, grasping at her heart. The person coughed, drawing her attention back. “What? And who are you anyway?”

“About that. You didn’t almost die..., you are two minutes away from being dead. I’m Death and I’ve come to help you move on.” They said, looking Irene in the eye calmly.

“W-what? You’re kidding me, this HAS to be a prank!” Irene had forced a deranged smile on her face as she looked around the room. “Haha, very funny! Joke’s over.”

“It’s not a joke, Ms. O’Brian. Look down.”

Hesitantly, Irene looked down and felt something welling up in her throat, whether it was vomit or a scream she couldn’t tell. She was looking down at her unconscious body, still lying in the hospital bed. The heart monitor beside her body beeped with each heartbeat, each one which could be her least.

“Oh, my God!” Irene couldn’t breathe, she fanned her face, freaked out. “I’m dead! I’m DEAD!”

“Yes, but if you calm down and come with me, you can reincarnate or have yourself tried for the Afterlife.” Death said, blinking and standing up calmly. “All you do is have to take my hand.”

“Are you CRAZY? NO! OF COURSE NOT!” Irene shrieked, reeling back, which made her realize she was floating. “I’M A GHOST?”

“I hate to tell you this, Ms. O’Brian, but if you don’t take my hand in the next fifty seconds, you might be stuck here. Forever.”

“Fine!”

“I wasn’t finished. You’d be here forever, unable to speak to anyone, interact with loved ones. You’ll have to watch them fall in love, suffer, and die, slowly moving on past your death.”

Irene went silent.

“However, if you take my hand now. You can see them again in the Afterlife or in another life, but only if you do so now.”

Irene thought. She then slowly reached out and took their hand.

“Alright. Let’s go.”