Page 8 of How to Survive Your Own Death

“Already done. Your office emailed me the paperwork.”

“Do you know how insufferable it is that acts of service are your love language? How am I ever going to pay you back?” She meant it as a joke, but the tone came out too serious.

“You don’t.” Molly reached over to awkwardly hug Geri. “Accept my love.”

“Your love is weird and pulling on my IV.”

“Accept it,” she said, not relenting.

“Fine. Fine,” Geri said with a laugh, pushing her sister away. “If I need money help, I’ll ask. I can’t work until they let me out of here.”

“And you’ll follow the doctor’s orders and take off the amount of time they recommend.”

Geri made a sour face. She could miss a few days of work, possibly even a week. If the doctor prescribed two weeks of rest, she’d definitely need Molly and Anh to loan her money for the rent.

Not that Molly would begrudge her the loan or expect it to be paid back, but it was embarrassing. Since the divorce, she managed to stay on top of the bills but struggled to build any savings. Moving out, putting down a deposit on an apartment, buying all the bits and pieces to furnish said apartment so she didn’t live like a college student with one towel, one bowl, one pan and one spoon was expensive.

She was grown. She had a job with a 401k and decent insurance. In theory she shouldn’t be struggling, but the cost of rebuilding her life plus her medical care meant she’d always be behind. The last little indulgence she bought herself was a fancy latte.

“Don’t make that face,” Molly said. “You’ll be stiff and sore. You’ll need time to recover.”

“I’ll listen to the doctors,” she said, deliberately avoiding a timeframe. If the doctor said no work for two weeks, fine. She’d be broke. If they said she could go back when the headache stopped, even better.

“No screens until then.”

Geri agreed.

“And you’ll stay at our house.”

That was easier to agree to. She didn’t want to be alone while her brain was still seeing things that weren’t there, at least for a few days. “Sure, but only because you have the fancy bathtub with the jets.”

Geri woke abruptly. Hospitals were too loud, too busy even in the middle of the night, for her to sleep properly. Finally, exhaustion claimed her in victory and dragged her under. It was a strange, fitful sleep, of half-dreams and wandering thoughts.

She was not alone in the room.

A dark figure in a hooded cloak stood at the foot of the bed. Skeletal hands peeked out from the sleeves. Shadow obscured the face.

The figure should have been terrifying. It was a classic grim reaper, right out of the pages of a storybook, but Geri sensed peace. No malice. Only the serenity of surrendering to the inevitable. Death was part of the cycle of life. The sun rose, and it must set. A harbinger of death was a friend.

This was weird. Geri had her brief emo phase as a tween but she had never been into the dark stuff. This friend of death stuff was not her. Not her at all.

“You owe me a debt, Geraldine Melnyk,” the figure said.

Geri tried to reply but she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even move.

This had to be a nightmare, only it felt too real.

“We are bound. Your life belongs to me until your debt is repaid.”

CHAPTER 3

GERI

What no one tells you about a near-death experience is how odd it is to slip back into everyday life. The milk in the fridge will go bad and the bread will turn moldy regardless of Geri’s personal feelings about her mortality.

The hospital kept Geri for two days. Two long, expensive days. The visual hallucinations with the colors and lights were concerning but the internal bleeding had stopped. Ultimately, it was decided that they would go away as her concussion healed. She never told anyone about the nightmare with the grim reaper.

Before discharge, Molly secured two weeks paid leave for Geri. Yes, it was a little embarrassing needing her big sister to handle this stuff, but she was thankful because there was no way she could do it on her own.