Taylor leaned up against his bed, dragging his finger along a book he had been trying to read. He disliked reading braille books, but this time was an exception; he needed to get away from the real world. But it wasn't working. The words he traced wouldn't stick to his mind. The book's story failed to embrace him wholly. All he could think of was Amelia, Amelia, Amelia. It had been two hours since she had gone missing and he was yet to hear from Prince.
He closed the book, settled on the fact that it wasn't letting him enter another realm. Taylor slid his book underneath his bed—the place where he kept most of his books and other personal belongings. He pushed himself off the floor and clicked his tongue once. Twice. Thrice. He remapped his room in his mind before making way for the door.
Once he got to his door, he twisted the doorknob. It opened, which was a miracle; Prince started locking his door ever since he was found unconscious by Amelia in the hall under a pile of cotton balls. He put a hand on the wall to his left. He dragged it there as he walked towards the left wing, which is the area where he had last seen Amelia, by the stairwell where he had almost fallen into earlier.
With the help of a few echo—locating clicks, he managed to find the staircase. He traced the first step with his foot. With utmost care, he held on the handrail and brought down his foot down. A split second of doubt—what if there wasn't a staircase here after all?—passed through his mind before his foot felt the hard surface of the first step down. Using the last gap as a reference, he took another step down; then another one, and another one until he eventually reached the ground floor.
It was quiet, which had expected since almost all of the staff was out looking for Amelia. The faint smell of that day's lunch hung in the air from the cafeteria along with a slight string of detergent from the cleaners' room.
Taylor wasn't sure why he wanted to go downstairs. All he knew was that he wanted to help find her. He felt strange; he felt that he needed to find Amelia as if his instincts knew something he didn't.
This was a familiar feeling, however. One time, he came across a hot-dog stand named Bulldog's. He didn't remember tasting or smelling Bulldog's hot-dogs, but his mouth watered whenever Prince mentioned the name "Bulldog's," which was a regular occurrence because Prince loved eating them (or so he said). Taylor figured that it came from his lost memories—impulses that his body remembered but his brain did not. Maybe in his past life he also loved eating Bulldog's hot-dogs.
Dragging his hand on the wall, he walked through the corridors. He stopped right in front of the cafeteria, unable to enter. A strong rancid smell escaped from the cafeteria. It smelled like someone had doused the whole cafeteria with vinegar. But he stepped right in after pinching his nose, thinking that Amelia might've thought that coating the cafeteria with vinegar would repel him and his keen nose. A childish reason. But then again, he had a limited amount of options by travelling alone, so why not?
"Amelia?" Taylor called after several steps in. "Are you in here?"
"Who's there?" someone replied. Whoever she was, she was definitely not Amelia. Taylor heard someone walk towards him. The person stopped a few feet from him, saying, "Wow, aren't you a diligent one?" she chuckled. "Sorry, but I don't think Amelia is here. Celia and a couple of people have already scouted this place out. I even started my pickle jar experiment."
"Oh, I see," Taylor said, crestfallen. He turned back to the entrance, a few paces back. "Sorry for bothering you and your uh...experiment."
"Catherine," the woman said.
"Huh?"
"My name's Catherine. Nurse and a terrible cook. Would you like a hand?"
"Oh," he replied, "I'm Taylor, Amelia's—"
"Girlfriend?"
Taylor almost choked. "No, no...Just a friend. And no thank you. I think I can handle it...?" The reason for his change of tone was because he felt a thin, warm arm hook around his elbow.
"Don't be silly. If you want to find your girlfriend faster, you need assistance." Catherine said, right at his side, "I can't stand by to let a patient walk around aimlessly too. It's part of being a nurse."
Taylor sighed. "I guess it'll be alright."
"Great!"
"What about your pickles?"
"Oh they can wait. Ms. Amelia's more important anyway. This way, then."
Taylor felt weak, having to need another person's help. He always hated that, but he always kept it in him for the sake of the person assisting him.
They went through the hallway that led back to the stairwell he had climbed earlier. He stopped moving, making the nurse stop as well, who seemed to be experienced with walking with people like Taylor.
"What is it?" Catherine asked.
"I stepped on something hard and tiny," Taylor said. He took a step backward.
He felt the nurse kneel down momentarily. "It's...a ring."
"A ring?" Taylor repeated.
"Yes. It looks like a wedding ring, actually. This is odd; I don't recall having married nurses here since most couples are daunted by the large distance of this place is from the city."
"How about married patients?"
Catherine laughed. "This is a children's hospital, Taylor. No one over eighteen can stay here. I guess I'll just keep it for now just in case there is someone married here." He felt Catherine push something down—probably the ring—in her pockets. "Sorry, but I don't think I remember where you wanted to go."
"Is there a restricted place here?"
"Restricted?"
"Yeah. A place where normally no one would have access to."
"Well...There's the breaker room. That place is closed, of course, unless we want kids poking around there and getting electrocuted. Then there's the basement where we store old equipment and broken furniture. Locked. But even if it's unlocked I think the kids wouldn't want to go in there since it's dark and creepy."
"Anything else?"
"Hmm...There's also the rooftop, which is closed off for obvious reasons."
"Do you think they have searched these places?"
"I'm sure they've searched pretty much everywhere. The only place that they wouldn't search is the rooftop."
Taylor's ears perked up. "Why is that?"
"The only way to go up there is an old creaking staircase that can collapse anytime. I tried going up there last month. Two steps in and I already feel uncomfortable. It'll more fragile now because of the recent rain and wind."
"Let's go there," Taylor said without hesitation.
"But Amelia knew about that dangerous staircase. Why would she even try?"
Taylor wrinkled his nose. "All the more reason that she might be there." He took several steps forward, not waiting for the nurse.
"Hey wait!" Catherine said, dashing to catch up with him. "Just don't expect to get up there, okay? I doubt it can carry you."
"Mmm."
"Are you even listening to me? Slow down; you might run into a wall!"
"I am listening, but I can't slow down. Not right now," Taylor replied, making a sharp turn at what he believed where the stairwell he went through was. He reached out a hand to his right and sure enough he found the handle of the stairs. He felt for the first step, found it, and started climbing the stairs. Taylor's heart beat faster as he thought what could've happened to Amelia and what she was doing.
He didn't know why he was that concerned about a girl he had only met for 48 hours. He couldn't put his finger on a valid reason. Sure, he liked her, but she was just an acquaintance who happened to have amnesia like him. That couldn't be the real reason for the yearning he felt deep down his chest. No, it felt more than that.
Taylor climbed up the stairs as fast as he could, turning every 20 steps up to climb the next set of stairs parallel to the one he was on, each turn taking four diagonal steps. His legs were starting to hurt by the time he felt a hand grappling his arm, stopping him.
"Please...hold...on," Catherine said in between heaves.
"What is it?" Taylor asked, almost angrily.
Catherine squeez
ed his hand once she had gotten her breath back. "You're already there," she said.
Taylor knelt down on the ground, skeptical. He traced his hands on the surface in front of him where he knew the next set of stairs would be. Wood. His hands found thin grooves of wood against his skin. Testing, he pushed it down a little bit. The first step emitted a loud creaking sound under his palms like a biscuit being slowly bent. Taylor sighed; the staircase was indeed too fragile to be usable.
"Let's just go look somewhere else," Catherine suggested, tugging his hand back.
Taylor replied, "I guess you're right." Hopeless. She wasn't there. She couldn't be there. He was crestfallen as he allowed the nurse to guide him back onto the previous staircase.
"At least down there you're safe from all this dust. Good thing I caught you, though. There was a sizable hole a few steps high. Fragile or not, you could've slipped and fell right into the basement."
"A hole?"
"Yes. Looks like someone or something punched through the staircase."
"And where would you end up if you fell into it?"
"The basement," Catherine gladly answered. "Not a nice ride down, though. You would break a lot of bones, that's what I can tell you—Hey!"
Taylor took off once more, but this time, downstairs. A horrifying idea had come to mind—an idea that may or may not devastate him.
Amelia, his heart sang as he juggled his feet going down, counting every step to know when the staircase would end—16, 17, 18, 19, 20, turn, keep hands on the handrail. Twenty steps down again. Four steps every turn. Hands and legs starting to hurt again. Amelia, Amelia, Amelia...
"I hope I'm wrong," Taylor whispered to himself as he ran as fast as he can. But as he got off on one of the steps, he miscounted and got that split-second heart attack. He fell face forward on the ground that followed. "Amelia..." he groaned, pushing his body up again.
"Taylor!" he heard Catherine behind him, "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asked as she went beside him.
"I'm fine," Taylor said, starting to stand up again. But Catherine brought him down before he can fully stand.
"I can't let you do this by yourself," Catherine said.
"You're not even my nurse," Taylor replied.
"It's still my duty. It's part of my job, even if you're not my patient."
"Just let me go." Taylor tugged.
Catherine tugged back. "Are you out of your mind? You don't even know where the basement is! It'll take you a whole day to search for that by yourself!"
"Why? Because I'm blind?" Taylor spat.
"Yes, because you're blind!" Catherine replied. "Let me help you, Taylor. You don't have to keep trying to do things by yourself. Sometimes you need help from other people, even if they don't know you; even if you feel like you're the only person needed to do the job.
"I know Amelia too. She's a nice girl. If something happened to her, I won't be able to forgive myself just as her sister wouldn't be able to forgive herself."
Taylor's ears perked up. "Her sister?"
"Celia. Celia is her sister," Catherine said. "But that's not what I'm trying to get across right now. What I'm saying is that all of us nurses and doctors are here as a collective body to help you guys. Let us be your eyes. Let us be your legs; your arms. The reason I went into this line of work is because I want to help people like you. So, let me help you. There's no shame in getting a bit of help."
Taylor was silent, not knowing how to respond to such a thing. He nodded and the two of them stood up. With the nurse at his side, they started walking.
"Honestly," Catherine said, "are you sure you're not Amelia's boyfriend?"
"Seriously? Just after giving that speech?"
Catherine laughed. "I can't help it!"
Taylor grumbled. "Mmm."
"Anyways, why are you going to the basement?"
The dread returned. He imagined Amelia under a pile of wood, bloodied and broken. With her black hair scattered around her and her dim-green eyes lifeless...Wait a minute, Taylor thought. Black hair? Green eyes? How do I know this?
"Taylor?" Catherine called. The boy hadn't noticed that he had stopped walking and that he still hadn't answered Catherine's question. His nurse's calls didn't seem to snap him out as his thoughts started churning harder like a waterwheel being overcome by a sudden surge of water.
Ink-black hair, green eyes, plump pink skin. Beautiful contoured face and an adorable nut-sized pair of lips—Amelia. That's Amelia, He remembered, I've seen her before...I've—
Taylor collapsed.
___
Amelia laid still on the cool ground, not daring to move. Light from the hole she had made shined upon her face a couple feet up with its edges sharpened like a set of wolf teeth.
"Is there where I die?" Amelia asked herself. Her body refused to move. Even her eyes didn't budge as if she was frozen. The fall definitely took a toll on her body. Aside from not being able to move, she felt something misplaced in her chest. Maybe a broken rib or two. Maybe more. It didn't matter anyway. She could feel her heart beat slowing down much like the fading light of the sunset outside the building that will soon vanish—just like her life.
A familiar voice refocused her senses: "...down there you're safe from all this dust. Good thing I caught you, though. There was a sizable hole a few steps high. Fragile or not, you could've slipped and fell right into the basement."
And she heard another one: "A hole?" It was Taylor.
"Yes. Looks like someone or something punched through the staircase."
"And where would you end up if you fell into it?"
"The basement, as I said," Catherine gladly answered. "Not a nice ride down, though. You would break a lot of bones, that's what I can tell you—hey!" And their voices faded away accompanied with the sound of running down stairs.
"Tay...lor..." she croaked. It was useless, she thought. He wouldn't be able to hear her even if she screamed.
"He's coming here," a voice said. "Don't move. It's me."
Death hovered right at her feet. Gone were his businessman clothes and slick hairstyle. Instead, he wore a glowing white robe that could either be a holy bathrobe or the normal sleeping gown in heaven.
"Are you surprised?" he asked, stepping back to emphasize on his attire. "Most people envision me with a scythe and a black hood."
"What is...it like?" Amelia managed.
"In the afterlife?" the angel said. "It's very peaceful. No pollution. No war. No disease. No politics. No school."
"Mmm," Amelia grumbled.
"You learned that from him, yes?"
Amelia did her best to nod for trying to speak was becoming unbearable as if every word stole a second from her life.
Death sighed. He reached for something in his cloak and took out a golden pocket watch. "Almost time. The last dusk," he said just as the light from the rafters above started to rapidly dim. Darkness came over the whole basement room and the only light source that lit up the room was the angel's aura.
"Let's go, Amelia."
Amelia blinked one last time. A tear drop escaped her eyes and rolled down her cheek.
And they were gone. The basement reclaimed its darkness and the girl left her body along with the Death angel's glow.
___
"Did you forget your dying wish?" Death asked as he stood with Amelia right in the middle of white nothingness.
"No," Amelia replied. "I remember it now," she said, smiling. "I remember everything now. I guess we weren't really meant to be, huh?"
"You two would make a fine couple," Death agreed.
"What is this place?" Amelia asked, twirling around in her white dress that had miraculously appeared on her. Nothing stretched off as far as the eye could see. Just light.
"This is what we call the platform. Lucian comes by from time to time to take you to paradise."
"Sounds like something from a fantasy novel," Amelia quipped.
Death laughed. "Oh you'll be surprised."
"Amel
ia!"
The girl froze at the sound of that voice. She looked around, finding the source of her caller.
"Last minute call?" Death said.
Amelia frowned. "Huh?"
"It seems they've already found your body," Death answered, looking up. The girl did so as well. She saw what seemed to be a first person view of people with flashlights.
A woman was crying loudly. Familiar nurses bunched up together to see her. Faces of disdain, sorrow and anguish popped up like a wave along with intertwined voices.
"What happened?"
"She...she's dead."
"Don't let the children in."
"Why would she do this?"
"Bring her to the ER. Now."
Amelia felt a hand on her shoulder. "He's here," Death announced.
As if on cue, a man on a double-bike appeared out of nowhere. He wore the same white glowing robe as Death did. The man stopped right beside them before giving Amelia a warm smile.
"Name's Lucian, young lady," the man said, extending a hand. "If you're ready, just hop on and we'll be off."
"Okay," Amelia answered, scampering on the second seat on the bike. She looked at Death one more time. "Well...thanks for giving me a chance."
Death bowed. "If only you won."
"Won?"
Amelia's eyes widened. Taylor materialized right next to Death. His eyes were open, revealing a pair of aqua-blue eyes that Amelia had always admired. "Taylor?"
"So, we're back here again, huh?" Taylor said to Death. "The place where we made a deal."
"Indeed," Death replied. "But our contract is void."
"What do you mean void? I gave you my sight and my memories to let Amelia live!"
"And she gave her life to let you live," Death countered.
Taylor exchanged glances with Amelia. "What...what does he mean?"
"The night," Amelia started, "when we were crossing the bridge, my mom died. When I came back for you, you were also gone; thrown away into the river."
"That is when she met me," Death said. "And that is also the point when she made a deal."
Amelia said, "He said that the price for a life is a life but he also said that there are some ways for the both of us to survive. A risky deal. So, I gave my memories to him and placed that I will die in five years if we never get to..."
"If we never get to fall in love again?" Taylor finished.
"Yes," Amelia said, embarrassed.
"Isn't that...Isn't that the plot of the movie we watched right before we went home?"
Amelia blushed. "I was twelve."
"And I was in love," Taylor said. "I've always been in love with you. Even when we were just kids. Even in the last 48 hours, I felt something different when I'm with you. It's something my heart couldn't forget."
"You've realized this too late, sadly," Death said. "Time is up. There is nothing else to do."
"Unless I wager," Taylor said.
"Wager?" Death repeated. "If you're willing to do so, you must put something up twice as valuable as your life and eyes combined."
"Don't," Amelia said, her voice breaking. "Please, just live your life, Taylor. You've done enough."
"I can't live knowing that you died so I can live, Amelia," Taylor replied. He fully faced death and inhaled. "Give us five more years. Take away our memories and separate us again. But this time, take my life instead of my sight if we don't fall for each other."
"Taylor!" Amelia complained.
"I'm sorry, Amelia," Taylor said. "I rather die with you than live knowing you died for me. I won’t give up."
"No," Death said. "I think you won't. Alright then." He took out a book out of his robe along with a pen. "Five more years. This time, both sides of life." He closed the book before motioning for the bicycle guy.
"Well, missy, I don't think you'll be going to paradise right now," Lucian said, letting her get off. As soon as she does, the man vanished without a trace along with his two-seater bicycle.
The girl ran straight to the boy. She hugged him tightly just before the tears started leaking from her eyes. "You're an idiot," she muttered.
"A smart one," Taylor said.
"A very persistent one," Death added. "Well, I'm really running late. You two have a couple of seconds before I pull you out."
"How did you even get here?" Amelia asked. "Did you stab yourself to death?"
Taylor laughed. "I don't know, actually. I just remember fainting then waking up again then I saw a ring—"
Amelia hugged him once more, silencing him. "How do you think we'll meet again?" She whispered, not loosening her embrace. She felt relieved, frankly. She didn't want to leave the mortal world yet; she wanted to see more things and meet more people—the same things Celia had told her about.
Taylor shrugged. "I don't know. But this round I get to have my eyes. I'll know if it's you since you're very pretty."
"Am I?"
"Well, it's one of your distinguishing features—" Taylor vanished for a moment. "Whoa! That was weird."
Amelia laughed, flickering as well. "I'll see you, then."
"Hey, wait!" Taylor said. "I should at least get a kiss. Isn't that a thing in the end of romance stories?"
Amelia stuck her tongue out. "Our story isn't ending yet, dummy. You just extended it."
"Oh, well, crap."
Amelia laughed once more. "I'll see you, then."
Taylor smiled. "Later."
___
"A miracle!"
"Weren't they broken just a few minutes ago—?”
Amelia's eyes fluttered open. Three people stood beside her bed: two nurses and Celia. Although seeing them comforted her, she expected to see someone else—someone else she couldn't remember.
"Amelia!" Her nurse exclaimed in glee, catching her in a tight embrace. "Thank God you're saved."
"'Saved?'" Amelia muttered. "What...what happened?"
"It doesn't matter now," Celia answered. "All that matters is that you're alive."
And for some reason, that comforted Amelia. She was alive and in the arms of her all-loving nurse.
But alive for what? What had happened? All that she remembered that day was the children having fun and the almost-midnight Halloween party where she went as Amelia for her dress had been mysteriously tainted with orange juice.
People acted strange in front of her, though. She heard that a boy and his nurse vanished almost at the same time she gained consciousness. No one could remember who they were or why they left.
It was a curious thought, for the time being, but soon all question about that matter vanished as the girl danced with the children and ate sweets like she was trying to get diabetes.
She went to bed around 1 AM that night.
5 YEARS LATER
It was a lovely day in the city. Students and businessmen alike dashed to and from Chel's Coffee shop like a band of bees. Although most people would take coffee out, one particular woman of respectable age decided to drink at the cafe as she read her newspaper and waited for her nurse sister, whom she was supposed to meet after a long while of not seeing each other.
The cafe was an interesting scene for her, as if she was just an observer watching people in a movie. She saw people of all sorts getting their coffee or their bagels or their sandwiches before dashing right out. The smell of gasoline and coffee intertwined with each other whenever someone entered or exited. The atmosphere as a whole was enough to distract her completely from her newspaper.
As she was watching this, she noticed something shining on the ground right at the edge of her seat. She pulled down her newspaper and leaned as far as she could.
It was a plain old silver ring, shining brightly against the sun. She frowned for she felt as if this had happened before. Nonetheless, she stood up, put her paper down and bent over to pick it up. As she was about to do so, her hand collided with another. She looked up.
It was a handsome man wearing a plaid shirt. He smiled at her. It was a pretty cute smile—almo
st as if she was looking at a young boy rather than a man. He pocketed the ring quickly as if it was a very important memento for him.
"Was that yours?" The woman asked.
He nodded. "I rarely drop that thing, yet when it does it always gets into the weirdest of places, haha,” he said, patting the pocket where he had stored the ring.
"Hm...Don’t tell me this has been in a toilet bowl." The woman said, suspicious.
He laughed. "I won't say to keep the suspense."
"What for?"
"Because you look like the type of girl who likes mystery, am I right?"
"Well, you could be wrong. What's your name?"
He pursed his lips. "You first."
She sighed. "Oh alright. It's refreshing to be the one doing the introducing for a change. My name's Amelia."
The man stared at her.
"What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, no...Your name. It suits you."
"It suits me?"
He laughed once more. "A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. It adds to your distinguishing factors."
"Never heard of that before."
"I like to make my own original pick-up lines."
"Good for you, uh..."
"Taylor," he answered. "My name's Taylor," he said, followed by a mischievous grin. He took out the ring and showed it to her. "I found you."
THE END
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