Page 44 of Your Soul Is Ours

“It’s okay Marla. It’s just my time, I guess.” Her hand grips mine harder and something inside of me cracks further, thepieces I’ve been holding onto for so long slice open my insides. The tears build in my throat and threaten to fall, my eyes burn from the chemical cleaner and my chest tightens with pain.

“No, it’s not fucking okay, Jess. Listen to me, you fuckers. She is an amazing person. She is smart, important, and valued. She is my best fucking friend and serves the world by lighting it up with her smile. Have you seen her smile? Because it will make your worst day better. It makes everything better.”

The doctor doesn’t look me in the eye, none of them do. They pull on her arm and as I take a brief second I realize more minions in blue surround us, doing the government’s dirty work instead of helping us out of the dark. They are extinguishing what little light remains within.

“Marla, listen to me. I love you more than words can express. Meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I am thankful for fate guiding me to you and bringing us together. Fight for us, Marla. I’ll see you on the other side.” Her tears stream down her face, and with that, so do mine.

As she accepts her fate, her grip on my hand weakens, and I can feel her surrender. She walks through the door and it closes behind her. As I bang on the door, my knuckles start to ache. The consequences don't fucking matter to me anymore. I'm willing to be thrown in jail or given a fine for disturbing the peace.

“This isn’t fucking fair. Do all of you not see that? We all have something to give to society. How dare they take that decision from us? We all have a role in this universe and some man in a suit gets to decide if we get to heal? Or if we get to die?” I don’t care that I’m yelling, the tears fall and threaten to drown me in my sorrow. Fury rolls in my stomach, and I realize I never told her how much I loved her, I never got to hug her goodbye and now I’d never see her again.

“Go sit down, or you’ll be next,” a gruff voice says into my ear. I turn and see the woman in blue scrubs. “Probably be thenext on the list anyway,” she mumbles. I wander to the back of the room where we were just sitting, like my life hasn’t changed completely in five minutes.

I think about the woman’s words, and how I could be the next one. I never want to come back, but the consequences are so high, I don’t know what to do. The lady announces the end of the day and I watch everyone file out, waiting to see if I’ll be able to see Jess or if they’ve already killed her.

“The centre is now closed. You can come back on your next appointed day,” the lady says. As if I’m not the only one standing here and she’s speaking to an audience.

I move out the door, I’m on autopilot as I walk to the park. Tears stream down my face as I sink down onto the bench to wait for Sebastian. Hugging my arms around myself, I try to take a breath. The gut-wrenching pain and fury build inside of me, and I don’t know how much more I can take.

Twenty-Seven

Sebastian

When I pull up to the street where the park is, I see her sitting on the bench with her arms wrapped around herself. Her face is buried in her arms, but her body shakes. I barely put the car in park before I run across the park to thebench. The ground is a mess, but I sink to my knees to hold onto her legs.

“Marla, what happened? Are you okay? What did they do? Are you hurt?” I look her over but can’t see any injury, though she’s wearing a large sweater. She moves her head up and I can see the loss in her eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, and my heart sinks.

“They took her. They said she wasn’t a functioning member of society and now Jess is gone.” I blink away the tears that form in my eyes, unable to bear seeing her in so much pain, nothing I say can change anything and words are a piss poor band-aid she doesn’t need.

“I’m sorry, my dove. Do you want to go home?”

She nods so lightly I almost miss it. I cradle her in my arms and bring her to the car, setting her down on her feet so I can open the door. Tears and whimpers continue out of her. I hand her a cigarette.

“I just can’t believe it. We were happy this morning. We woke up and joked and I told her she could have the apartment because I stay with you and I just can’t believe this shit.”

I stroke her leg and start the drive home trying to make sense of everything she is saying. “Why did she need the apartment?”

“I think she was homeless, or living in a shitty place. I told her she could stay at my apartment for as long as she needed and there was hope in her eyes. She had so much to offer the world. How could they just rip her away like that?” I shake my head.

Like her, I hate the system, and I am just as clueless. “I don’t know. What can I do to help you?”

She looks out the window, flicking the ash off her smoke. “Nothing.”

“We can kill ‘em all,” I offer and her head tilts towards me. The wheels are spinning in her mind.

“No. Though, there is this one bitch, the one who ripped her from my arms. I’d like to kill her. I don’t even know how we’d do that.”

“I’ll figure it out, whatever you want.” After we pull into the driveway and park, she gets out of the car and walks to the backyard, sitting in the chair that I put there for her. I don’t want to be away from her, so I bring a stool over and sit.

“The system is just so fucked. Why does it have to be this way?”

“I have no answers. The rich get richer and everyone else pays the piper for sins they haven’t committed. Greed captures them all and those in need of services go without. Cutbacks everywhere have led to the epidemic of mental health needs being unmet. It’s all horseshit, because people deserve help. They can rehabilitate everyone to serve society somehow, but instead, they plow through the delicate needs and fill our ears with excuses.”

Marla doesn’t say anything. Her eyes fall across the backyard and, although they are swollen, she’s stopped crying. “Do you want anything to eat? I’ll get you some water, otherwise you’ll get a headache.”

“Maybe it’s what I deserve. I didn’t save her and I should have. The least I can do is have a headache, some pain for punishment.”

Pulling her out of the chair, I swiftly pick her up in my arms and bring her into the house. Grabbing a couple of bottles of water, I continue to our bedroom.

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