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42.85% My Name Is Sara (Hiatus) / Chapter 6: What is Lonely?

Capítulo 6: What is Lonely?

Finding her way to her apartment wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. Several of the boulevards were created specifically for housing, and down Blue Boulevard (apparently Gray City was sticking to the color naming scheme) in the 4th apartment building, Sara's new abode awaited.

She was on the third floor in apartment 313, and was pleasantly surprised to find that instead of a physical key, there was a keypad for a personalized code and a place for a key card to be swiped. Her key card was provided in her packet along with a randomized pass-code for her first entry. After Sara changed the pass-code to a mix of her and her husband's birthdays, Sara entered her new apartment with curious eyes.

She promptly dropped her Welcome Packet and backed out of the apartment so fast that the door slammed shut behind her. She stared at the shut door with terrified eyes, and quickly turned around so that her back was leaning against the door as she slid to the floor. Her hands came up to up her mouth as she tried to stop hyperventilating.

Sara sat there for several moments, mustering up her resolve, and felt disgusted with herself.

'Its- its just an apartment. Its not like there's living furniture tearing the place apart- stop being such a coward!'

Taking in a fortifying breath, Sara stood up and input her new code with shaking hands. She scoffed at herself, and roughly swiped her keycard that was thankfully still in her hand, and walked back into the apartment.

Sara stared at the dark interior, and forced herself to remain standing in the doorway. Closing her eyes, Sara reached over to where she knew the light switch would be. She flipped on the switch, and slowly opened her eyes to take in what she knew would be there.

A modest living room was on her left with a nice blue couch, a glass coffee table, and matching blue blackout curtains on the window. The rug was plush and cream, and it would also be a nightmare to clean when something spilled on it. On her left was the entrance to the kitchen, and it was surrounded by a counter with three bar stools.

Sara felt tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.

Because down that hallway would be the bathroom that would be big enough for two people to share, and through the door at the end of the hallway would be their bedroom. With its queen-sized bed and navy sheets, and the patio doors that led to a modest balcony.

This… this was HER apartment.

Or at least, it was trying to be.

Sara bit her lip until she tasted blood, and then forced her feet to walk over the threshold. She shut the door behind her, and took in a deep breath. She glanced over at the counter, and several things were placed there for her.

There was a cell phone, a tablet, a plain looking wallet, and a piece of paper. Sara set her key card next to wallet and picked up the piece of paper that welcomed her to her temporary home. It also happened to have a list of the numbers programmed into her phone, and wouldn't you know it, they all just happened to be open 24-7.

Sara turned on the phone that was remarkably similar to the one she had just bought on Earth, and went directly to the contacts. She pressed one of them and held the phone up to her ear, after a moment or two of ringing, it was picked up.

"Hello, this is the Request Center of the Afterlife Syndicate. My name is Cheryl, how may I help you?"

"Hello Miss Cheryl." Sara's fingers began to tap on the white counter, and her eyes were full of dark emotions, "I had a few questions I was hoping to ask you."

"Ask away! I'm here to help in any way I can!"

Sara could practically see the robotic smile on her face.

"I was just wondering, is it normal for the Afterlife Syndicate to dig into our lives so much?"

"Oh? What do you mean?"

Sara's lips curled up into an angry grimace, and her hand tightened around the phone, "This place looks like a replica of my apartment on Earth."

And what made it worse were the details that they had gotten wrong.

"Oh yes, we do this service for all of our guests. We replicate their previous living spaces in order to help them adjust- of course if it isn't to your liking we can always change it."

Sara wished that she could yell at them that of course this wasn't to her liking. This- this entire system made her feel violated. First, they knew things about her body that she never knew (her blood condition), and then they replicate her apartment on Earth along with this damn phone! Wasn't there such a thing as an invasion of privacy here?!

Sara tried to calm herself down. According to this Cheryl, it was all done in hopes that it would help her. Too bad everything that they did to accommodate her seemed to make her more and more depressed.

Because for a moment, when she had first walked into this apartment, she thought that maybe she was really home. It was a cruel hope that she had crushed immediately, but it had still risen in spite of her common sense. And now all she could see were the flaws. The couch was too new and so were the appliances, but most glaringly of all, was the lack of pictures. Sara wasn't a big fan of traditional decorations, but she loved putting up pictures of her and of her family. The table by the door was missing the photo of her and her husband at the ski lodge, and the counter was missing the photos of their wedding- it was as if those wonderful moments in her life had been erased.

This apartment looked just like hers, but it was empty. A hollow shell.

"I would like you to redecorate it as soon as possible then. Different colors, different layout, anything that you can change. Please."

Sara knew that she wouldn't be able to live here. Because she knew every time that she woke up she would wonder when David was going to come home.

Sara would never have a day of peace if she was constantly haunted by the things she could not have.

"Of course, Miss. I will need your name and address please."

Sara answered all of the questions Cheryl had, and promised to sign the paperwork she emailed to her tablet.

"It should take us a few days to renovate, would you like for me to book you a room at one of our hotels?"

"Yes please."

Sara turned on the tablet while she waited for Cheryl to finalize the details, and signed all of the necessary paperwork with her finger on the tablet's touch screen. After everything was settled, Sara pulled up the map that Cheryl emailed her so she could begin her journey to the hotel.

"I have one more question I was hoping you could help me with."

"What is it?"

"… Would you be able to tell me if someone I know is here in Gray City?"

Cheryl went silent for a moment, "I am sorry, that is not covered by this department. Would you like me to patch you through to the Information Center?"

"Yes please." Sara swallowed nervously as she grabbed her Welcome Packet off of the floor. She opened it to put in both the informative piece of paper and her new wallet which was now holding her key card. She then picked up her tablet which was opened to the Map she was going to follow, and left the apartment without a backward glance,

A pleasant and familiar 'waiting' jingle played in her ear as she waited for the new department to take her call. Luckily the service was faster then she was used to.

"Hello, this is the Information Center of the Afterlife Syndicate. My name is Mathew, how may I help you?"

Sara smiled a small smile as she walked down the stairs of the apartment building, "Hello. My name is Sara, and I was hoping you could tell me if someone I know is in Gray City."

"I can indeed help with that. I just need a full name, and a few key details about them- such as their birth date and their death date."

"Ah." Sara rattled off all she knew, frowning when she realized how many of the little details about Melody she had forgotten.

Melody was her neighbor growing up, and she was a close friend of her family- she was practically another sister! In fact, Sara and her sisters were always going in and out of Melody's house, and she and her brother always did the same at hers. They were inseparable.

But then Melody went off to college with Sara's two older sisters and they had less contact. Melody grew closer to her other sisters, and as a result, many of the small details like dates and birthplaces were hazy for Sara.

Sara knew that it was a long shot, but Melody was the only person she held any hope of seeing in this city. Her uncles had died too long ago, same with her grandparents- and Melody was the only friend she had that was already dead.

Sara paused on a step, and her eyes became shadowed, "She died in the industrial district on the edge of Central City. She was…"

She was the victim of a car jacking gone wrong. A man asked her oh so nicely for a ride, and Melody was too nice for her own good. She was gentle, and had always tried to help everyone that she could. She volunteered at shelters, donated money to charity, and gave anyone who was short on funds all the cash she could spare.

And so, when a man who was publicly dumped by his girlfriend looked at her with his big puppy eyes, she offered to give him a ride home. Of course, they never made it to his home. He made her drive to an abandoned area and then he attacked her, robbed her, and left her for dead.

Sara had never wished anyone more ill then she did that heartless man.

"... I found her! Melody Lynn, deceased for 2 years and 55 days."

Sara's heart rate picked up, and her entire face lit up. It had been so long, and while Sara knew intellectually that Melody was probably fine, Sara still wanted to see her- needed to check with her own eyes that Melody was truly okay. Because she couldn't imagine how traumatized she must have been after such a death. Sara was worried for her.

"But I'm afraid you just missed her. She had her Court Date 21 days ago, and has already moved on to the next plane."

Sara's side of the phone became eerily quiet.

Mathew waited for a moment, and then hesitantly asked, "Is there anyone else you want me to look up?"

"… No. There is no one else."

Sara hung up her phone, and then traveled to the hotel without speaking another word.


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