Life of Death

Chapter 3: Seven days. Maybe

Well that's depressing. I somehow felt bad for him. Yeah, he's full of himself and arrogant, but it's a scary thing to know you're dying. He can try and make it funny, too. Why would you joke about death? Is it better to know you're dying, or leave it be a mystery?

Although I wanted to let him know I felt sorry for him, I didn't. He knew people admired him and he didn't need anyone to feel sorry for him. I could tell by his expression that he didn't want the subject to be questioned. So I didn't.

"So I have about six days then?" I asked. 

"Yep, just about. If not six, then the entire week. Then it's off to heaven."

"I think you mean Hell." He gave me a questioning look, the very first sign of any flaws on him. "I don't belong up there."

"And what have you done?" He shuffled a few papers and started walking through the white halls of the hospital. I followed him, knowing that he wasn't walking out of the conversation, he was just trying to act normal.

"Lots and LOTS of crap." I continued walking and processing my thoughts. As I did my best to dodge the busy traffic in the hallways, I wondered if it really mattered if I swerved out of their way... What would happen if I just stood in front of them and took the hit... So I tried it. There was a female nurse wheeling a senior citizen contrary of the direction I was walking in. I stopped directly in front of them, a few feet from the wheelchair.

They passed right through me. I felt this weird tingling sensation though my body. It reminded me of the feeling when your foot is waking up, but this time it was my whole body.

"Don't interfere with anything living!" He hissed. He kept walking and made many turns through the hallways. 

"Why, what'll happen?" I continued to follow him through the endless hallways filled with hospital traffic.

"It'll slowly kill the living. Do you want to kill them? I didn't think so. " 

"You didn't even give me a chance to answer," I argued. Yeah, this is me, loves to argue. Always pointing out the facts.

"Would it have changed your answer to yes?" No. It wouldn't have. He was right. "I thought as much."

"I'm surprised you think at all." We continued bickering and formally arguing along the halls that never seemed to end. Or run out of patients.

We walked to a room, like an office. It had a desk strewn with paperwork, "This is my little break room. Just for me. As you can see, it's like an office. I don't take serious breaks."

"And why doesn't the star doctor take any breaks?" I asked and began to take a seat in the chair by the door. He waved his fingers and the chair moved just before I could sit down. I fell on my ass and he laughed his off. "What the hell man?? What the fuck was that?" I snapped at him, standing up with a red face. 

"Isn't it obvious? I find you very irritating, annoying, and I hate irritating and annoying. So as of right now, I don't like you very much. I even think you could make me hate you in the next half hour. How 'bout it." He said.

"Well, I already hate you, so I guess the feeling is going to be mutual," I said, "Well, why don't you let me have a seat and I'll get started."

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I popped the cookies into the oven, and I took my apron off and put it aside. The tables were set, chairs in place, and the stage was as red as possible. A few of the people started to walk in and chose their seats. Matthew, Markus, and Daimean checked on Rissy and left to their houses to clean up and change.