Don't Forget To Turn Off Your Location

CONTENT WARNINGS: Death.

The sharp scent of anesthetic stung Jules's brain as her my sneakers screamed on the polished floors of the hospital. "Run for your life" no.

Run for his life.

    Nurses and doctors seemed too calm for the situation at hand. She wanted to scream at them, she wanted to claw at them and drag them to his room, order them to make him better. No, he's gonna live. He has to live. Her heart was galloping and the blood was roaring in her ears as she came to his door on which a sign with the name Art Neverson hung and she double checked before grabbing the handle and yanking the door open. Slow beeping reached her ears as her eyes landed on a lump in the bed in the middle of the blindingly bright room. Jules's legs turned to cement but she forced them to move and she made her way to the side of the bed. Her cheeks drained to match his paper white skin and she gripped the white rails that lined the bed. Reaching out, she slipped her fingers into his and smiled through the grimace that nearly surfaced. Her heart clinched, feeling the bony hand, still remembering his healthy hands that gripped hers not two months ago in a movie theater. She wanted to punch the beeping machine but when she turned to see what it was, she realized it was his heart rate monitor. The beeping now seemed sickeningly slow and Jules willed it to beep faster, louder, even.

    "Art. Hey, it's Jules, I'm here. I got your mom's call. Please tell me you're still there." The finger resting on top of Jules's twitched and she sucked in a stinging breath of hospital air. Her eyes darted to Art's face, nervously searching his sunken features. His lips parted and a shallow breath fell out and Jules's heart spiked.

    "Art!"

    "Ju-juliette?" His warm brown eyes were now a sickening muddy reddish brown.

    "Yeah, it's me, what on earth happened? You disappeared for a week and then I got a call from your mom telling me to come to the hospital. Never ever turn your location off on me again."

    A breathy chuckle issued from his chapped lips. "You won't have to worry about that, Jules."

    "Why? Why, Art? Why are you so sick? Why did you leave? Why has all this happened? What is this all about?"

    "You'll learn eventually. But when you do, just remember, I did it for you. I did this all for you." And then the machine let out one last long beep and the hand fell away from Jules's grasp, curling up like a spider in the sheets. Jules let out a gasp and her hands plunked against the rail as they fell, numb to the pain of the impact. And a gurgling screech that echoed around the white room and came back to haunt her, ripped from her already raw throat. Crawling up onto the bed, she curled up next to her boyfriend's lifeless body, now suddenly cold and sickening. But still she found some comfort near him. She continued murmuring her favorite stories from their childhood to him as tears pooled on the chest of his hospital gown. Her tears continued until the doctors and nurses finally came, and Jules was pried away.     She planted one last kiss on his cheek, letting one last tear fall on his face, and told him just how much she loved him one last time.

    Art Neverson never turned off his location on his phone ever again. And Jules Crane never checked it.