Moments to Last

 This would be better than being assaulted and die in shame without dignity.

Shelly made her way into the clinic.  The walls were blue and fake trees littered the waiting room.  Dead, plastic flowers rose up to the fluorescent lights above.  

“Are you Shelly Anderson?” The lady behind the desk asked.  

“Yes, ma’am,” Shelly replied. 

“Well, the psychiatrist is in and ready to see you.”  The clerk smiled.

Shelly went through the glass doors.  Her high heels clicked on the wooden floor. For some reason, she felt the need to look pretty.  Why? She didn’t know. 

“Hi, I’m doctor Moore.  I assume you’re Shelly?” His whiskers twitched.

“Yes.”

“Alright, Shelly, please have a seat.”  His boring brown suit resembled dirt along with his bland tan tie. 

“May I ask why you decided to choose our clinic Moments to Last? 

“Well, to be honest with you, it’s partially social and partly my prospects for success.”

“Do go on.”

“I feel as though my station in life is causing me to feel deep psychological pain. I suffer from a slight disability, as you know, sir.  I wear the identifier around my wrist and most people stay away from me, but I am suffering greatly with shame and guilt.  I am not even equal to the lowest class.  I have no future in the world, no job, and I can’t satisfy myself or deal with the judgment of others.”  Shelly felt a boulder fly off of her chest.  How nice it was to say it.  She pushed back her blonde hair.

“You seem confident in your decision.  Have you told your family?” Dr. Moore wrote notes on to his pad.  Shelly liked the blue pen.  

“My family wouldn’t understand at the moment.  They are optimistic due to their own denial,” Shelly said.

“I see.  Do you think this will cause them any harm?”

“I think their psychological state might need to be examined.  After a month, I believe they’ll agree it is the best decision.”  Shelly rubbed her nose, as she had a slight cold.  

“Do you realize this is the end?  That nothing follows?”

“I know an afterlife is for children, sir.  I don’t need any promises.  I will know nothing, see nothing, and remember nothing of my life.  It is truly meaningless and worthless, so a fancy grave marker will be unnecessary, too expensive.”  

“You seem very mature.  Have you decided on your last moments yet?”

“Yes, I would like to cuddle with my crush.  A girl thing.  He is worthy of status.  I would like to feel someone who is strong in my last moments.  Don’t worry. I know we are not equal, no need to release my feed to anyone.”

“Of course, we know better. It would result in you having to work on a drone ship if you did it outside of the clinic, a punishment for a low deed, but we reward those who have the honor to die rather than stay and waste space. Well, Shelly, let’s get you into the room.”

Shelly walked across the hall into the hologram.  The walls around her were white, sterile, and uncaring.  In front of her was a bed with fluffy blue blankets and two pillows, both white.  

Shelly thought back to her life as the simulation began to load, a process that can take a few moments.  

Reflecting back on school, she heard the students laugh at there as she tried to remember what whatever equation it was, how to draw and paint, how to sing.    

“She’s so stupid,” a past classmate said. The others giggled and left the table.  In the memory, she toyed with her bracelet, which was supposed to caution others about her disability.  Authorities said they should know to look for odd behavior.  Her eyes fell to the checkered floor. 

She thought about her time in the library reading books, her favorite activity.  In those worlds, the impossible happened, and one could expand the mind in many ways.  A good memory. No real people.  No longer fulfilling.

The system came up, a few beeps here and there.  The room darkened with stars revolving around her.  They shined all different colors.  She traced a few constellations, feeling like a child again.  

“Shelly?” A voice asked.  

Shelly turned around and saw him.  It was Pan from the internet.  In real life, he looked even more spectacular.  He wore a tight t-shirt etching his toned body.  She loved darker eyes, hating her blue orbs always pestered with bags underneath.   

“Pan?”  Her heart fluttered with emotion, which she rarely expressed. 

“It’s so nice to meet you.  You should come closer.  I won’t hurt you, you know.”  He waved his arm and she came over.  They were at the edges of the bed, close enough for now.  His deep eyes turned soft as his face.  

“You, too,” said Shelly.  “I don’t meet people like you in real life.”

“I’m real.” Shelly smiled to herself, letting the lie sink in. 

“These stars are amazing!” Pan said.

“I know.  We don’t see them in my city much, just the balls of gold.  I like the stars.  They’re so far away with so many possibilities to think about.”

“What do you think is up there?” Pan asked.  His eyes stayed interested, fixed on her.  Nobody did that in real life. 

“Oh, childish things, spaceships, aliens, and black holes that suck up everything that comes near them, the inescapable death in which nothing can be saved.” Shelly sighed. 

“Do you wish upon a star?” Pan asked.  

“People like me don’t get many wishes. No moment lasts, you know.”

“Come now, don’t feel sorry for yourself,” Pan replied. 

“You’re right. I’m doing the proper action.  I should take pride in that.” Shelly smiled with self-approval. When you’re worthless, she figured, any noble action feels like redemption. 

“Come closer, Shelly.”  Shelly moved forward and Pan wrapped around her.  She felt safe, the smell of man relaxed her body, and her heavy head sank into the pillow.  

They laid there for many moments.  The stars spun around them or Shelly, the only one there.  The little world revolved around her and her choice.  She let time sink in, let it flow through her body.  

Pan leaned over and kissed her softly on the forehead.

“Are you ready?” He asked Shelly in a whisper.  

“Yes,” she said calmly, feeling comforted.  

“Till death do us part.”  Pan pushed the hair from her eyes, which began to close softly, her body weakened, as her will surrendered to eternity.

Dr. Moore opened the door with a metal table. 

At least a piece of shit knew it was a piece of shit.  The dead body plopped on the cold metal in an awkward, grotesque pose.  

“You’re not looking at me are you, little bitch?”  He broke her neck away from him and walked toward the morgue.