Jay's Last Day (short story)

 The morning started not the way it usually did.

 I opened my eyes in complete quietness. Darkness. And only violet light coming from the window helped me see into the empty room. An alarm didn't go off, the minute hand hadn't reached the roman five. I slowly got up in the crumpled bed without feeling my body. I just sat there on the edge of my bed trying to find the reason for my awakening. Anxiety was pulling slowly and expanding in my chest.

 Suddenly the second hand droningly and uneasily tore apart the quietness. The sound of tik-tok was slowly catching up its speed. I saw a door: it's trembling as if somebody was trying to force it open. But I didn't hear the blows, only the tickling of the clock was getting louder and louder. I felt my hear: it's like a rabbit facing its death. It's racing away from the rushing horror. I would've run away as well but I couldn't move. The door thrusted open. It felt like everything - noise, emotions, feelings - was washed away into the doorway. The gloom on the other side of it had devoured everything. And now the silence is luring me inside.

 A knock on the window made me open my eyes. Agitated, I suddenly jumped up and opened the whitish curtain. The knocking stopped. On the ledge behind the glass a black raven was sitting. With its beak to the side it was staring at me. I didn't feel well after sleeping and know it's gotten even worse. The raven knocked once again and flew away. A bad sign. Feeling slightly down I looked around the room again: it was still flooded with the violet light. My roommate was wheezing at the wall, it was before five on the clock, and the door was closed. I decided to lie down and try to fall back asleep, but my heart was still racing. I found my phone on the bedside table, I wanted to look up the meaning of my dream. I regretted it: the information hadn't made me feel a tiny bit better. I could try to sleep a bit more and calm down. The alarm went off.

 With heavy heart, thoughts and eyelids I was sitting in a bus on my way to the university. Out-of-body, I was peering into rain drops on the muddy glass. The bad road made the bus shake time to time. The shaking made my empty stomach respond with sickness.

 In the student changing room in the basement I was pulling on surgical trousers.

 "Are you going to attend the surgery?" asked the prefect with a ringing voice.

 "I don't know, I don't have a medical mask. Probably, it's better for me to stay in the classroom," I answered without interest, finally having the trousers on.

 "Jay, you're always like this," she reached into her bag, "Here!" the hateful prefect held out the mask.

 "Erm, yeah, I'll go. Thanks..." I took the mask bluntly and stuffed in into my chest pocket.

 After everyone arrived the entire group headed in the operational unit in the ninth floor. We were waiting in front of the fifth operating room with masks and slippers already on; everybody is ready. I felt a bit better. No, it was just an illusion. Anxiety was squeezing my chest. The white door slightly opened, and professor Schäfer waved us in. We walked in a line and took our robes off in the preoperative room and walked into the sterile room. We stood a couple of steps away from the surgical table, surrounding it. An assistant checked the bovie, and when the wall clock showed exactly 8:30 am, professor Schäfer started the surgery. I only remembered the beginning: incision, cauterisation, incision, dilation, desiccation. I turned away towards the window.

 Why was I feeling worse? I'd seen blood, bones, muscles, fascias and ligaments for so many years now. And I'd always stood bravely, I'd been curious, but now... Through my blurred consciousness I could see the image of that raven. It's there, knocking on the closed window of the dark and empty operational room. I saw it and followed its shadow. Now I heard not the knocking but the ticking of the clock. With my every step it was getting louder and louder. Without hesitation I tore of the curtain. I was hit by the light, and now I was slowly falling into nothingness. Into darkness.

 I regained consciousness, because I was dragged by somebody. I couldn't see who it was. I was seated in a chair in, what it seemed to be, a linen storage room. A puzzled face in a mask emerged in front of me. Somebody splashed water into my face.

 "Do you hear me? What's your name?"

 "Jay, I'm here, everything is alright," a nurse handed me a piece of cotton wool soaked in ammonium chloride. I pulled myself together.

 "Why did you walk towards the window? You could have smashed your head against the window sill," the masked face continued angrily.

 "I don't remember," I answered, unusually steadily, "I fainted, didn't I?"

 "Yes, you did. We hadn't even started, and you already collapsed. Go home," he snarled at the miserable student and went away.

 I had to sit there for a while, tolerating the looks of nurses who were discussing what just happened.

 "Have you eaten today? Are you ill?"

 I left the questions without any answers. I took my robe and left, still sniffing on the last molecules of ammonium chloride. Frankly, I had felt bad before this moment. And I would've seated in this storage room for a week, if I was left alone. But I didn't want to seem weak. I didn't need sympathetic looks of my classmates. I didn't need all the same questions: What happened? How are you? Is everything alright? Are you sure? Do you need help? Leave me alone!

 I hurried to gather my stuff and leave. It seemed that the faster I leave, the faster the incident would be forgotten. And nobody would recall it again. I was so ashamed, and I didn't know why. I felt tears in my eyes. Where were they coming from?! I couldn't see because of them. Oh God, what a disgrace! Fainted and now crying, dweeb. Why was I like that?! That's ridiculous, just calm down... Nobody would notice anything: it's raining. I was already completely wet, so I just could lower my head and keep walking. Nothing could have been worse! I had no idea that it could have. Crossing the road I heard sudden squeaking of tires. I turned towards it and through my tears saw a blinding light. And that's it, i was hit by the car. I died.

 "Seriously?! By plane?! Never!" everyone would say after they heard that I'd never flown before, "It's unforgettable!"

 And now I'd felt it.

 While I was a medical student, I collapsed in an operating room. And in that fraction of a second, while falling, I saw my own death. I didn't know why I deserved it, but if it happened then there was a reason for it.

 I'm writing this just to tell you (whoever you are) to take good care of yourself. I understand you. But leave your scepticism behind and don't ignore the signs. Somebody helps us sometimes, but still. I'm sure: there is a reason for everything. I wasn't a bad person, but I've changed after what have happened. I've finally gotten plans for the future! Ordinary, human plans. No more depressions and melancholy. Now I finally feel alive, I love living. I want to have a family. To have kids, to raise them up to be good people! I think this is my second chance. I'm sorry that what I'm saying is so dashed off, but... If one day a black raven knocks on your window, just think about it. Do you believe in second chances?

 I myself cannot believe. Because after I died I opened my eyes to the knocking on the window. Again.