Death tasted like a cat curled up in Elle's mouth and died. Not the Black Cat but a regular cat.
Death also sounded like the steady beep... beep... beep of a heart monitor.
And death came with a pounding headache, the kind that made her feel like her brain had been microwaved and left to cool on a sidewalk.
Elle clawed her way back to consciousness, eyelids heavy, limbs useless, mind foggy. The hospital ceiling hovered above her, bleached white and far too bright. She felt the stiff sheets, the cold metal railings, the IV tugging at her arm. Everything smelled like disinfectant and regret.
She wondered if she actually died and this was some underwhelming version of the afterlife.
No Clarissa. No golden gates. No angels. Just... disinfectant.
Her memories came back in fragments.
Crossing the street.
The sudden force.
The ground rushing up.
White hair.
Pain—then nothing. For a brief moment it felt like death.
Still alive.
The world didn't pause.
She wondered why it didn't pause.
Elle swallowed. It tasted like metal.
She groaned softly.
Someone gasped.
Not a nurse.
Not a doctor.
A boy.
He was sitting in the visitor's chair right beside her bed—leaning forward, elbows on his knees, like he'd been watching her sleep for a little too long to be socially acceptable. The guy had a fresh buzz cut, like he'd shaved it last night, and the biggest, roundest brown eyes she had ever seen—wide, warm, hopeful.
Hopeful in the way puppies look up at strangers, expecting treats and affection.
She blinked at him.
He blinked back, like she was a miracle returning from the dead—technically accurate, but still weird.
Then he scrambled to his feet so fast the chair nearly tipped. "Oh thank God. You're awake."
"I'm still alive?"
"Yeah you-"
"Fan-fucking-tastic." Elle groaned sourly.
He furrowed his thick brows in confusion. "You don't seem too happy to be alive."
"It gets tiring." She fired in a grouchy tone, then she turned to him fully, "wait and who are you?"
He sat up: rushed and awkward, "I'm Daniel. And I—uh—I hit you and you technically kinda almost died."
This information stunned her. "I almost died?"
He winced. "See that makes me seem like a dickhead I mean technically your heart almost did stop but they saved you."
"I've...I've never been this close to death." She muttered, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
"I'm so sorry, I'll pay for any-""
She blinked. "You hit me?"
"With my car," he clarified quickly, wincing. "I didn't mean to! I swear! You just—you walked out, and I was only going like—okay, I was going a little fast, but not like bad fast, and then—boom—well, not boom, more like thump—"
She squinted at him. "Wow."
"I KNOW." He dragged a hand over his buzz cut. He looked like a golden retriever begging not to be kicked out of the house. "I'm not a murderer. I promise. I called the ambulance right away. I stayed with you. I held your hand for like—two minutes—and then I realized that was weird because we're strangers so I stopped-"
"You've wounded me." She said, perplexed.
"And I feel like shit-" he continues on but his voice faded as he rants as she really looked at him.
He looked like a regular guy. Tall, broad shoulders, brown eyes and buzz cut season. The most he'd ever done in his life was Prom King in high school and donation drives probably. He seemed too kind for someone with a bone structure of a super model, so it was obvious he was probably a late bloomer.
She had gotten hit by a total if 67 cars in her lifetime, since the creation of motor vehicles and not once has she ever been sent to the hospital. Time would always reset as soon as she was hit.
And then she gets hit by this guy and suddenly she almost dies and gets sent to the hospital.
He's still talking when her confusion settles.
"-and I get if you hate me for it."
Elle let her head fall back into the pillow. "You have big eyes."
Daniel blinked. "Is that... relevant?"
"They make you look guilty."
His shoulders sagged. "I am guilty."
"Puppy Eyes," she mumbled, half-asleep. "That's your name now."
He nodded. "I guess... I deserve that."
The black cat—very much alive, very much ever fucking present—sat on his chest the whole time, making biscuits with its paws like he was its personal pillow. Daniel didn't react. Didn't even flinch. The claws clearly didn't exist to him.
Elle pointed weakly just to check. "There's... a cat... on you."
Daniel looked down at his empty chest, then back at her with deep concern. "There is absolutely no cat on me."
She sighed in defeat. "Just checking."
The cat, offended by his ignorance, pressed its paws deeper into him. Elle watched it, wincing.
"Ow."
Daniel blinked rapidly. "Ow? Ow what? Are you in pain? Should I call a nurse?"
She swatted his concerned hand away, "No. It's nothing."
He sat back down, guilt pouring out of his deep brown eyes. "I really didn't mean to hit you. I swear. I'm just... glad you're alive."
She closed her eyes. "Relax, Puppy Eyes. I don't die."
"Everyone dies." For once since she met this Daniel guy he sounded serious, almost grave.
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
His gaze was distant, looking at the IV bag by her side seriously. Without the glimmer in his otherwise hopeful brown eyes and the animated expression on his face he looked older and mature. The kind of brooding face you'd see and the mystery of it would excite you.
His jaw set.
Maybe he had lost someone in the hospital.
Elle didn't have the heart to answer. To tell him that some people actually can't die and it is a curse.
But the cat—who he still couldn't see—purred smugly on his chest, kneading away like he was the world's softest, guiltiest blanket.
Then he snapped out of it, as if he realized he'd been marinating in his thoughts too long.
"What's your name?" He quipped, the light back in his puppy eyes.
She scattered her brain to remember the name she was using now. Her head still throbbed. She couldn't remember the nearest one.
"Elle." She said.
Daniel gave her a look like he didn't believe her. Luckily Daniel didn't stay long.
On the contrary he wanted to stay for longer than necessary to make sure she was "okay" but Elle lied about having a very strict military father who would beat him up if he saw him.
When she was finally alone she stared at the ceiling for a long, quiet moment.
She wondered if she was finally mortal. If this truly was it.
Maybe she was given 1000 lives?
Other people would've treated immortality like a free pass to reinvent themselves—new lives, new names, new dreams. A chance to burn bright, crash hard, and start over as many times as they wanted.
Some would call it a blessing.
Elle knew better.
To her, immortality was a curse—a quiet, relentless sentence. A reminder carved into every lifetime that the world would never let her keep anything she loved. That happiness wasn't hers to keep, only to borrow. And sooner or later, the universe always came to collect.
She turned and the black cat stared at her from the visitors chair.
"Am I normal again?"
The cat stared.
"Let's go test that shall we?"
Then she sat up.
Her body protested with a flare of pain, but she ignored it. She swung her legs off the bed. The cold floor bit into her bare feet. The hospital gown hung loosely on her frame, thin and flimsy.
She unhooked her IV with numb fingers. No one was around to stop her. No one even noticed when she slipped out the door, moving slowly, unsteadily, letting the dizziness guide her more than her own will.
There was only one way to check if her immortality was still intact.
The hallway blurred around the edges.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
The exit sign glowed red like a beacon.
She walked.
She didn't know how long it took to reach the outside—minutes, hours—it all smeared together. The cold air slapped her awake, but her mind still felt underwater, distant and muffled.
Within minutes she found herself near a bridge with a heavy current pulsating below.
She grinned.
It was perfect.
The sound of the crashing water numbed her head.
Her movements were eager, a smile on her lips so ecstatic you'd think she was running to greet an old friend.
She quickly hoisted herself onto the railing and within seconds the whole world blurred around her as she plunged off the bridge with her arms wide, and a smiled curled on her lips.
'Clarissa'
The ice cold water below froze her body cold in an instant, locking her teeth together and burning her skin cold.
Her body froze, skin prickled with ice as the water thrashed numb body around like a ragdoll.
'Pause'