“Ma’am it’s time.”

Looking up from clasped hands the woman rose to her feet obediently following the nurse into the next room.

“Please remove all your clothes and possessions and place them into this box. That purple gown on the table is for you to put on. Once you are ready knock on the door.” The nurse abruptly left the room leaving the sting of her absence lingering like a tot thread cut.

The woman complied. It’s not as if this moment was a surprise, she had been planning it in its entirety for the last six months. After all she chose this. It was her decision. Following the instructions from the nurse the women stripped, donned the purple gown and then knocked on the door the nurse had left through. Waiting and perched on her own hinge of existence the handle turned and the woman was no longer alone.

“Alright Ma’am,” the nurse handed the woman water in a cup with two tiny pills “take these and finish the water. The pills are simply just to keep your nerves calm, about 20 minutes after taking them you will start to feel more relaxed and at ease. Studies have found that it helps with the stress in the final steps of the transition process for our clients.”

The woman did as told, swallowing the pills and finishing the water.

“There is paper and a pen on the table for any last words you may want to say to anyone you may know. I will return in an hour with the head of the team to begin the final steps of the transition process. If you’re ready before then feel free to knock on the door at any time.” And once again the nurse was gone almost before she had arrived.

The woman sat at the table trying to think if anything she said would change their thoughts, help them understand the decision she had made. As the medicine began to work the woman watched the clock. Ten, twenty-one, forty-five…. she could put it off no longer. The woman stared at the paper for five minutes and then began to write. With five minutes left she sealed the newly written letter and placed it into the box with her clothing. The same nurse once again entered the room after an hour, no less, no more. The nurse was followed by a doctor with too much gray hair, too ironed of a tie, and too shiny of a ring.

“Miss Julian the nurse is going to finish up with you and then I will see you shortly in the transition room.” The doctor, brief and abrupt continued through the room and exited out of a second door the woman hadn’t even noticed.

“Ma’am, I’m going to seal your box now will you please put any last items inside?” Julian removed the silver pendant she had forgot was still on her neck and placed it in the box on top of the letter, the last communication she would ever have with people outside of this building.

The nurse put the lid on the green, gray box and sealed it shut with tape. Slowly the woman pulled her eyes away from her box, willing herself to feel nothing. It hurt, she knew it would hurt during the planning, but the hurt would never be comparable to the legacy she was leaving for her daughter. Her grief now lay taped and sealed in the box with what her life alone could never give to her daughter.

“Ma’am everything is sealed, and your bed is ready. The last thing I need to complete in this stage of your transition process is the name of the person who will be picking up your box and the date you wish for that to happen.”

The silence was crushing.

That’s a pretty name, and what is her relationship to you? And what date would you like the box picked up, today is 8 September 2058”. The nurse wrote the archive details on the box. Perfect I will archive this for your daughter to pick up on her 18th birthday of 19 January 2068. Now please go ahead and lay down on the bed and we will proceed to the final stage of the transition process.”

The woman crawled up onto the wheeled hospital bed. Her purple paper gown in the back lying open upon the white stiff hospital sheets.

“Ma’am,” the nurse flashing her too bright life devouring smile. “I just want you to know how admirable the sacrifice you are choosing to make for the well-being of your daughter is, and how thankful the strangers and their families will be for your generosity.”
Raising the bed rails, “well let’s not waste another moment.” The nurse began pushing the bed into the room the doctor had exited into. The bright lights finally hitting home that now, today, this was her time.

“Hello Julian, I am Doctor Newton, I want to personally thank you for this act of selflessness. My protege here is going to go put this mask over your mouth.” The doctor turned away and began to prep himself for the transplants.

“Julian start counting backward from twenty to one” the same life devouring smile spoke as she placed the mask upon Julians mouth. The gas machine that was designed to devour her consciousness.

“Doctor, she’s out.”

Julian lay sleeping. Never to reawaken. This suicide was not forced upon her, this was a decision made by her for the best chance her daughter would ever have of thriving in this new world, after all capitalism knows no bounds.

“Doctor the bidders are final and on standby for their organs”.

“Wonderful. Turn on the music and let’s get started.” The doctor began his scalpel cuts of money. “Nurse, can you give me the financial breakdown of this bag?”

“Yes doctor, this is a good bag. All her organs were healthy enough for salvage. 20% to the Organ share organization, 23.8% to federal taxes, 7.2% to state taxes, 24.2% to the donors beneficiary, and 25.8% to the medical team.

“So how much is this bag netting us?”

With a wide teeth barring smile the nurse replied “3.2 million.”

“That is fanfuckingtastic. Let’s start bagging the organs for distribution to the bidders. You know the drill, non-essentials first.”

“Doctor, I hope she goes out with good dreams, it really is sad when they go out in bad ones.”

“She is a bag of organs now, let’s focus on our task.”

The bag lay on the table fading from the world into her forever dreams.

(2)

“Alright Mona I’ll see you tomorrow, bye.” It was dark out as Julian walked home from her shift at the factory. When she caught sight of a strange man out of the corner of her eye. “Ma’am, do you have the time?” Julian turned around and the man grabbed her and forced her to the ground. He put his hands around her throat until the she fell unconscious. The man lifted her skirt, ripped her panties and proceeded to rape her until he finished. Standing up the man’s spit on the woman and left her lying unconscious in the gravel.

Push, push, a newborns cry filled the room. The male nurse spoke “do you have any questions?” “What color is her hair?” With a chuckle the nurse replied, “it’s red” Julian smiled as her hair own hair was dark brown. She already loved this child more than life itself.

“Alright baby I will be right here when you get off the bus,” “mommy I’m scared, what if no kids like me”? “Baby you are beautiful you will have so much fun in kindergarten, all the kids will like you” spoke Julian as she gave a reassuring smile and a gentle push to her sweet baby girl onto the bus. The little girl waved until her mother was out of sight.

“Mommy come on, let’s go to the park!” Julian followed her 8 year old past the ghettos and to the swing set at the park. The child crawled into a swing ready to be pushed. “Mommy watch me jump” and the little girl jumped, soaring and flying with the millisecond of a child’s true flight. Landing and tripping to her knees the little girl began to cry. Julian walked up and kissed the tears from the child’s cheek, picked her up and began to walk home.

“Baby pack your suitcase and I will drop you at aunties, I have to pull an overnight at the factory. The stale birthday cake with its eight-year candles still sat on the tiny table just big enough for two. Julian and the child drove for what felt like an eternity, until they reached the shack Julians sister built with supplies scavenged from the scrap yard. “Tell auntie I love her, I will see you guys later, OK?” “Mom, I love you” “I love you too”. Julian waved until she was out of sight, tears rolled over her cheeks as she began to drive the last leg of her one-way journey.

(3)

“Doctor her blood pressure is dropping“ the nurse spoke.

“She’s already dead anyway…… and there is the flatline” alerting the staff to the bags time of death; 15:33. “Nurse take the heart for its implant in Richard Wealth and then call the coroner to pick up this husk”.

“Yes doctor”.

“Everybody drinks on me.’ Said the doctor as he removed the blood covered gloves from his hands.’

The nurse did as instructed and the husk was wheeled away. The only emotions were those of entitlement from the winning organ donors; their lives extended or improved without one thought of the hope and sacrifice that made their new quality of living possible.

(4)

The girl hated this building. Yes, it had given her a better life in a sick twisted way. She had used the money from her mother’s sacrifice to power through extensive schooling and become a doctor. She had bought her aunt a real, oversized house, made with actual wood , and a work lottery upgrade with what was left of her money.

In all honesty the girl had never really been able to cherish or resent what her mother had chosen to do. Perhaps that was the worst part of it, that she understood why here mother had chosen this.

The girl walked up the path and inside the doors of the “Life Transitions building.”

“Hello, I am here to pick up a beneficiary archive box”.

“I have been waiting all morning for you. Please follow me.” The front desk lady seemed nice enough, but could anyone truly be nice in a building like this? The girl followed the escort into a warm window laced room with the sun shining through. Its rays seemed to pierce every corner. On the table was a box. “Go ahead and take as much time as you need, all the contents in the box are your property now and you may take them as you leave, thank you.” The escort left the room.

The girl opened the box and stared at the contents. There was only two items and some clothes. A letter addressed to her and a silver necklace. The girl recognized the necklace immediately and removed it from the box first. As a child it had always been around her mother’s neck. As a girl she was not able to read it, but with her expensive schooling she was able to translate it now, Per Aspera/through hardship and on the back Ad Astra/to the stars. The girl picked up the last item in the box, a letter addressed to her from her mother and began to read,

To my baby, I love you

Fighting the tears that hadn’t fallen in years she folded the letter and put it in her pocket, placed the necklace around her own neck and left the crooked place as she vowed to never return. For her mother had paid for the life she had now, and she would never let that sacrifice crumble.