Deathless

Chapter 48: Millie

I wake in my bed at Roisin's and for a moment I lay still, the memories of the day that no longer was passing across my eyelids like frames of a film. When I finally pull myself up, my arms wrapping around my knees, I stare at the wall, at the ducks scattered across the wallpaper, remembering the times I'd woken in this room. The thoughts and fears that had greeted me after I'd opened my eyes to a new day. The black days after Mum died, the lost days after the funeral, those silver-shaded days after I'd met Jackson.

This is my last day on earth.

I know Jackson had argued more, and pleaded more with Death. In my numbed state, Lucius had gently taken me by the elbow, tugging me away as I turned back to stare at Jackson's face. He'd nodded, his soft smile almost but not quite masking the pain in his eyes. I needed his smile in that moment, that calming lightness, the essence of Jackson. I needed it to stop the weight of truth from pressing down on me, crushing me against that marble floor. Jeanette and Lucius gently explained what would happen next. Their words barely registering, but I took in enough. How I would die peacefully. No crunching metal, or shriek of breaks. No lonely death by the side of the road as originally planned. Death had granted me a kind death as well as a short life—lucky me. Jackson debated with him on the other side of the room. Hushed words of anger, hissed in bitter tones. I heard phrases like 'make her a reaper' and mutterings of a 'keep us in a time loop'. Whatever Jackson had pleaded for, Death hadn't granted it. I was still fated to die.

Finally, after what felt like hours or maybe seconds of standing in that atrium, my pulse pounding in my ears, Death had lifted his scythe, as Jackson held my hand and the day was reset. And here I was.

I want to cry, to scream, to slam my fist into the faces of these Ethereal's with their shears and scythes of death, cutting and slicing at our lives. Those with immortality and all the power of life and death at their fingertips, but with all the dysfunction of a reality TV family. Those who have the power over whether I live or die. I pick up my phone, look and watch as a second passes by. Fear drives the air from my lungs as another second passes, another moment wasted. My phone vibrates, and I read the message without hesitation. Without needing to check who it's from.

Jackson: Do what you need to do, then find me. I'm here. I'm waiting. I love you.

I smile, clutching my phone like a lifeline. You have one day, Millie. Make it count.

***

The twins giggle as I flip the pancake. It lands in a slimy heap on the counter. Roisin walks in, laughing as she sees the three of us in the kitchen.

"Well, someone is in a good mood on her birthday." Smiling, I feel that dull ache, that weight in my belly. I want to cry. I want to wrap my arms around my godmother's neck and take the comfort I know she would be more than willing to give me. I want to tell her everything that I know I can't.

Everything is the same, her outfit is the same. The boys rushed down for breakfast at the same time. What's different is me. It's knowing that I will never do this again, that I did it a thousand times and never really took in the details, the wonder of it all.

The first time I lived this day, I didn't make breakfast for the boys. I ate cornflakes and sat, scrolling on my phone whilst they watched morning cartoons, bickering as they waited for their mum. I barely glanced at them once. When Roisin came down the stairs, I'm not sure if I even said 'good morning'. Roisin walks to me and smiles, putting an arm around me and kissing my cheek.

"Happy twenty-first birthday, my gorgeous girl!" I laugh and pull her into a deeper hug. She chuckles in surprise as I draw her close. The comforting smell of her, her rose perfume and strawberry shampoo soothing a ragged piece of my soul. "Aw, sweetheart, are you OK?"