Death's Captive: Will she escape eternal confinement?

Chapter 5

I find myself standing in the level four ladies bathrooms. Someone is vomiting in one of the stalls. It looks like this might take a while. I pull myself up onto the vanity bench and lean my head against the mirror. The woman retches again and then there is silence. I sit and wait.

The cubicle door flicks across to 'vacant' and I lift my head to see a gaunt-looking woman stagger out of the stall to clutch at the sink. There are a few tufts of sparse hair left on her head and her skin is dry and brittle. I watch as she rinses out her mouth and splashes her face. From a small clutch purse she pulls out a white prescription bottle, struggles with the cap and swallows down six pills with a drink of water from the faucet. The woman shuffles out of the bathroom. I sigh and look around, I get down off the bench and kick open every stall. Nobody else is here; she must be who I'm here for.

I walk out of the bathroom and follow the woman into a semi private chemo infusion room. She gingerly sits down in a recliner and the nurse hooks up her treatment to her port.

"Is there anything I can get for you, Marylyn?" The nurse asks after taping down her IV.

"Some water please?" The woman's frail voice rasps. "I forgot my medication."

The nurse smiles and pours the woman a cup of water from the jug nearby. Marylyn fishes out the white prescription bottle again and attempts to open the bottle.

"Would you like some help there, Marylyn?"

"No, no thank you." The bottle clicks open. Marylyn shakes three pills out of the bottle onto her palm, then closes the lid and places the bottle back into her handbag.

The nurse passes the cup and Marylyn swallows the pills.

"Thank you," Marylyn gives the nurse a weak smile.

The nurse gently squeezes Marylyn's forearm and moves to the next patient. There's a caregivers chair in the corner. I sit and wait. It doesn't take long before Marylyn clears her throat, and looks at me. Not through me, but at me.

"Hi! Can you see me?" It always gives me a boost when someone acknowledges me, and have to remind myself that these are this woman's last moments.

"Who are you?" Marylyn asks.

"Oh, I'm just here to help you transition. You're Marylyn, right?"

The woman blinks lazily a few times and weakly nods. "What are you waiting for then?"

"You're not close enough to death yet. You could still be saved."

"I don't want to be saved."

"Too bad – I don't like doing this, and it can be avoided if you're saved, so I'll wait till the very last moment." I realise I'm speaking a little too casually.

There is silence for a moment then Marylyn holds back tears and mutters. "I'm tired. I'm in pain all the time. Even if I do beat this cancer I'll never be the same. Chemo kills too many healthy cells." A tear rolls down Marylyn's emaciated cheek.

For a long moment I look at the desperate spirit trapped within the failing body, and think over what she has just said. "Why here?" I ask. "A hospital isn't the best place to commit suicide."

"I live alone. I have no family. I don't want my friends to find my body." Marylyn coughs, and then drinks a little more water to clear her throat.

Good answer, I think to myself. I stand and walk over to Marylyn. I kneel at her feet and Marylyn leans forward.

"I never imagined Death would look like you, if I imagined it at all. You're so young and beautiful..."

I can't smile at her compliment, because it feels inappropriate, but I whisper my thanks.