Lying in the dark, I heard a steady, rhythmic bleating. I knew it meant something. Then, one final noise--a wailing, elongated beep. Man, that’s just annoying. Oh, well, no matter, it's fading out anyway.

Silence.

Wait?!? Silence?!?

It’s never silent here. There’s always something… the hum of machines, the squeak of a foot on the floor, the low voices of staff conversations bouncing from the smooth floors and hard surfaces of the rooms. There’s ALWAYS something. Plus, I haven’t felt this good in a while. My brain is working, I feel almost normal… at least I think I do. I’m not sure I remember normal, it’s been a rough couple of years.

I wish I could say there’s an upside to cancer. I spent 2 years losing my privacy and self-sufficiency in pieces. If it wasn’t chemo, it was radiation, if not standard radiation, it was proton knives, whatever those are. Those techniques bought me time, but that time had costs. Some days I wasn’t all that happy with the time, but others were a gift beyond anything I had imagined. Once they had done all they could with non-invasive procedures, radical surgery bought me a bit more time. All it cost was my ability to use the bathroom by myself. I’m not sure that was a good deal, but it was the deal I made. Life was what I knew. I wasn’t giving it up without a fight, even a doomed one.

Odd. I can remember everything.

EVERYTHING.

Man, that sounds better than it is. Some things it’s nice to have forgotten.

I don't want to remember this stuff. What the heck is going on?

The memories continue to flash by despite my desire not to see them. I'm forced to watch a recap of my best and worst times flashing like a movie made up of short clips from my life.

That time I spat a big glob of ick out the car window in the face of Jimmy Hawkins.

Or the stupid joke about Junior Frank losing 10 pounds of dead weight if he’d just cut off his head. It wasn’t my fault he made it worse by claiming it was a reference to his man-parts. The instant reply about his dead schlong being a personal problem didn’t calm things down at all. He hit me in the back of my neck for that one. I kinda had it coming, but the setup… I couldn’t resist being the smarta…..leck.

Why am I remembering all this stuff? Why won't it stop! I don't want this!

There’s the first kiss… so very awkward!

The first break-up, that was painful, and probably my fault.

The first serious love, the planned proposal, and the “Dear John” letter that came while the plans were being made. Comparatively, the first break-up was now a happy memory, which was an accomplishment.

Four years of dating flash by: the good times, the bad times, and stupid times where the wrong head was doing (or not doing) the thinking.

My proposal.

Her acceptance.

Our marriage. That one goes pretty well, she stuck around through the cancer, and that was more than I deserved!

Kids. Mostly grown, but looking inconsolate. My heart breaks again.

The memories finally stop, putting a rough end to the protracted nightmare.

Was it a nightmare? Am I dead? Oh, that's a frightening thought! Not the dead part, that’s not truly frightening. The frightening part is that I might only be dreaming. As bad as it may sound, I pray I’m not dreaming. If I’m dreaming, then I have to go back to a mush brain and a swiss-cheese body. I don't want to leave. I can't stand the thought that I'll be staying, either, at least not like this. Perhaps I'm suffering from fried-egg brain, like the old DARE infomercials used to show. Odd stuff, the TV of my childhood. Man, I’m all over the place.

If this is death, though, it looks like nobody got it right, at least nobody I know. No bright lights, glorious music and winged androgynous harp mongers. No crackling flames, sulfur, brimstone, or cloven-hoofed pointy-stick goat-beasts. Heck, it’s not bad, but it’s kinda like the DMV, except the chair is more comfy, which is good, but I don’t have any books with me, which could be really bad.

There was one bit of color, a bedraggled grey-green shrubbery that had clearly seen better days. It sat in the middle of the room, in a large ivory-hued planter.

{Evaluation Complete. Would you like to accept your evaluation or try again?}

What the ….

I’m not sure how long I spent sitting there stunned.

{If you do not choose, your evaluation will be accepted by default in 10 …. 9 …. 8 …. }

Crap. I think I might get stuck in this grey box without any new books. If it’s this or try again, I’m gonna try again!

{

Choice accepted.

Entering into the ThanaTopiary cycle. Each death will allow you to carry some traits to the next.

}

Wait EACH death?

I wouldn’t have chosen this death. There’s the downside… living again means dying again.

Bah.

There is ALWAYS a catch.

{

First Cycle Evaluation: Adequate.

New Achievements:

Good Choice 1: Adequate leaves room for improvement. Issuing opportunity to do so.

Reward: New Life x2.

No Guide: Life lived without System Guidance. No status or statistical information.

Reward: Basic Guide

Guide integration commencing.

}

A spike of intense invasive discomfort came over me. I have no idea how long it lasted, but it hovered constantly on the border just below pain, an unscratchable itch all over my brain, which finally faded out in blessed relief.

{

Assessing...

Assessing...

Guide integration completed.

Linguistic data updated.

Expanded communication capability available.... activated.

Slow Death 1: Dying sucks. Perhaps dying faster is better, you don’t know yet, but you may find out soon.

Reward: 1 minor grafted trait.

}

One minor grafted trait?

{

One trait that can be carried into your next life, possibly altering the trajectory that life will take. Due to Basic Guide settings, information is limited and somewhat vague. A minor trait will generally provide small benefits to one or more statistics.

Choose:

Pain: It can be a harsh teacher, but a teacher nonetheless.

Regret: Some things should never be left undone, others shouldn’t have been done.

Joy: Light in the darkest of places.

Learning: Some call it epiphany, others inspiration.

Fate: Maybe lucky is better than skilled.

Health: If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.

Towel: Massively useful. Immensely comforting. Don’t leave home without it.

}

Great whatever this is… they’ve based some of this on my clearly excellent taste in farcical sci-fi and fantasy. So, they can’t all be bad.

I had a decent life, but I wasn't ready to let it go. It didn't seem like I had much choice about that part. Nobody ever really does.

OK. Focus. Clearly any bonus is better than none, but some of those options seem a bit negative. Perhaps best left for another future me. Also, not super helpful in the names, something vague may not be any better than no information at all.

Well, sorry Buttercup and apologies to Mr. Prefect. Tempting options though they might be, those aren’t the ones that catch my eye. I’m picking learning. Inspiration seemed rarer than joy in the last life, and aside from my kinda crappy ending (sorry whoever has to take care of my old shell, but at least you’re not having to scrape me off of the road), my luck was mostly decent. Everyone rolls snake eyes eventually.

{

Choice accepted.

Life begins in 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1

New Achievement:

Rebirth 1: You have been born again.

Reward: -1 Life. Don’t waste it, you only have 2 left now.

}

Wait! Minus one life? How is that a reward? I don't think that word means what they think it means. I hope I get a better guide soon!

It was dark and warm and comfy. There was always some noise, but I found the thumping sounds comforting and soothing. Then it was light and cold and someone hit me. Jerks. So, I peed on them while screaming. Serves them right. Hope they have a towel.