//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: Painful Reprieve 
// by Shinigamimirror 
//------------------------------//

The room was silent except for the tick-tock of the clock on the wall, it's size cozy and neat. Bookshelves lined the wall filled with books and titles like "Grief Through the Years" and "Eating Disorders". I was sitting on a leather couch, trying to avoid making eye contact with the grey-haired man. He sat opposite of me in a grey recliner and looked at me with a neutral expression. The silence was filled with anticipation as he leaned forward, carefully considering his words.

"Do you think you're ready to go back to work?" He asked.

The clock reverberated in the room as I took in a deep breath and sighed. "I don't know. I... I just feel numb. It's hard to find a reason to even get up in the morning." I said dejectedly while rubbing the back of my neck.

The man leaned back, answering with care. "Do you have family or friends to talk to? It's important that you talk about this. What you're going through is normal." He said with practiced concern. 

I put my face in my hands and let out a sob. "That's just it doc, I don't have anyone left." I stifled a sob as the grey-haired man continued.

"Are you still taking your medication?"

I looked up at him. My eyes were moist, and I sniffed. He was looking at me with sympathy, like a father would look at a son who just hurt himself. I nodded slowly. He continued. "It's important that you keep your mind busy. I think going back to work will be good for you." He smiled reassuringly. His years of practice made it difficult to discern if it was genuine.

There was a long pause as his words echoed through my mind. I thought about my work and of my old life. Thinking about going back to the office burned. My anxiety rose as I thought about being around my co-workers. What would they have to say when I returned? Who would I come home to? He must have saw something on my face because the grey haired man spoke, shaking me out of my own head.

"What are you thinking right now?" he asked as he leaned forward.

I took a tissue from the side-table and dabbed at the tears running down my face. "I'm thinking about my empty house. How I have no one to come home to." 

For the first time, the grey haired man lost his composure, sadness and concern could be read on his face. "Its important that you carry on those good memories you have. This isn't your fault and there are people that care about you. Just because your house is empty now, doesn't mean you keep your heart closed off. You need to talk to people." He paused. I knew what was coming. "You know I have to ask you this question. Do you feel like harming yourself or others?" He looked at me with a serious expression.

"No,--" I said curtly  while shaking my head. 

"Well Charlie, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Same time next week?" He asked, smiling weakly. I nodded slowly, staring at my feet. "And Charlie?" he said expectantly, waiting for me to make eye contact. I looked up with a blank expression.

"Please call me if you need anything." He stood up and held his hand out to shake. I shook his hand and he patted me on the shoulder. I half-smiled at him before turning to walk away.







The house was dark and silent as I closed the front door behind me. A pang of despair sunk into my stomach. There was no one to greet me at the door. Just a lingering silence that clung to the air. I almost didn't bother turning the light on, but I thought better of it not wanting to trip in the darkness. Mechanically I put my shoes away and locked the door behind me. I looked around longing for a far-off sound of laughter.

I sighed and walked into the entryway. I could feel a rush of memories clawing to break the surface, but I held them back. I had taken the picture frames off the walls, but the empty spots served just as well of a reminder that something wasn't right. The house was immaculate like I had left it, save for a fine layer of dust beginning to settle.

I made my way into the kitchen. Thinking about cooking was a far off notion. I grabbed a can of tuna out of the pantry. I popped the can open, drained the water out, and put it at the head of the table. I sat down thoughtlessly and stared at my dinner.

'Bon Appétit'

I ate alone silently. I could feel myself on the edge of a breakdown, but if I remained detached, I could cope. I took a deep breath, focusing on the taste. It was bland, fishy, and wet. I shook my head as I finished the last of it. I threw the can away and prepared myself.

Walking to the bedroom was the hardest part. The master bedroom was at the end of the main hallway. I took a deep breath and walked to the first closed door on the right. I stopped and stared at the knob. I had kept it closed to keep the memories in, but they seemed to be escaping. I swallowed hard and continued walking.

I walked through the master bedroom doorway and flicked on the light. The queen-sized bed offered me no comfort as I began to get ready for bed. I walked past an empty dresser. There was a broken picture frame lying face down on it. Each object offered me a quick memory that I had to intentionally stifle unless I wanted to tear up.

I walked into the master bath but quickly averted my gaze from the mirror as I fixed myself a shower. The water was warm and soothing as I cleared my head.

'Just another day. One more day. One step at a time' I repeated internally as I opened the foggy medicine cabinet. I looked at the pill bottles and a fleeting thought passed through my head.
'It would be so easy to just end it right here' I shook my head and reprimanded myself. That's not what they would have wanted. I quickly took my prescribed medications before I could think anything else. Eventually I was able to make my way to bed. As I slipped under the covers, I glanced at the empty side of the bed and frowned. A few moments passed as I felt the medicine kick in and my eyelids fell. Hopefully a dreamless sleep.







I was in a black endless void surrounded by a cacophony of faint whispers all trying to get my attention at once. There were so many that I couldn’t make out what any of them were saying. I looked down to see I didn’t have a body.

‘Is this some kind of nightmare?’

The strange thing was I felt surprisingly present. Most dreams you feel fuzzy and incoherent, but I was lucid. I was aware that I was dreaming. The whispers were hitting a crescendo. They enveloped me like an ocean of sound, endless and fluid flowing into each other. If I tried to focus one it would dip back into the sea.

Slowly the whispers began to die, until there was finally silence. A deep cloying silence, and then a deep comforting voice filled my ears, as if coming from every direction and nowhere at once. I looked around but saw nothing.

“Charlie, a terrible fate has befallen you.”

I had that strange feeling I was being watched as the voice continued.

“I do not envy your circumstances. I am here to make a deal.”

“Who are you? What do you mean?” I asked with a hint of fear in my voice.

“Who I am is not important. I’m here to offer you a new life, but there are...prices to be paid. Something can’t come from nothing after all.” 

My eyes widened. I was dreaming so this wasn’t real. My subconscious must be playing games with me. Did I check the expiration date on that tuna? It was at that moment the voice chuckled.

“Charlie, you may be in a dream, but the choice you make here will have very real consequences. If you accept my… gift. You will be given a new life without the emotional pain and anguish you are living with now. You will keep your memories, but the heartache you feel will be gone.”

He paused for dramatic effect.

“But there has to be an equivalent exchange. You will temporarily suffer great physical pain. The world as you know it will change. Once you make this agreement, there will be no going back. Everyone you know and love will be gone forever.”

As I listened, I was unsure what to make of all this. Was this real? If I did take this seriously, at what lengths would I go to escape my living nightmare? What did the voice mean by ‘physical pain’? A scroll of parchment appeared in front of me in a burst of green flame, surprising me out of my thoughts. 

“Do you agree to make a deal to escape what haunts you?” The voice boomed. A pen appeared in front of me. I didn’t have any hands, but I could move the pen with my mind. I studied the parchment. It was filled with unfamiliar symbols I could not comprehend with a line at the bottom for me to sign.

I thought about the pain and grief. I thought about the loss and the anxiety. Flashes of hopelessness and despair went through my head. I was powerless against a sea of self-loathing and doubt. This was just a dream, but it felt awfully real. Even if this was real, an escape would be welcomed.

Without hesitating I signed the contract. Upon finishing my signature, the parchment and pen erupted in flames.

“Very well.” The voice seemed pleased. “The contract has been signed. When you wake up, you will go through the trials of a second chance. There is no going back now. It’s time to wake up Charlie.”

The black void I was in began to shake and crumble as a bright light enveloped the horizon. Like a supernova, it drew closer and enveloped me with its radiant glow.