Beep.

Oh dear Lord.

Beep.

Make it stop. Make it stop!

Beep.

The hospital was a busy place during the visiting hours. People from all around came to see their relatives. But after the sun set down, everyone just vanished. The sick were left alone and only the night shift doctors patrolled the halls.

This was far different from all those hospital TV show Lizzie had been following in her teens.

Beep. Beep.

Emma had never been a violent individual. Never. She had never sought to solve her problems with her fists and not even once had she laid her hand on her daughter the wrong way. But that ear burning beeping was driving her insane. Insane!

The door opened and a familiar nurse came in with the night's pills. There were five types of pills, all different colors that were too happy to suit the situation.

"Are you up to this?" the nurse asked. "Or are we going to have to ask Mrs. Mitchell to bring the syringe?"

Emma waved he hand dismissively. She hated Mrs. Mitchell and her syringes. That woman had no manners. She ought to be ashamed of herself!

The nurse gave her a glass of water and Emma plopped in the first pill.

Beep.

Every time she heard that machine beeping her shoulders flinched. She bit her lip to get her attention elsewhere but it wasn't working as well as she had hoped.

She swallowed down the second pill.

Beep.

Third.

Beep.

"Nurse…?"

"Yes, Mrs. Everett?"

"Could you… turn… that thing… off?"

The woman turned her eyes to the machine.

"But Mrs. Everett…"

"I can't… sleep… with it. It's… keeping me… awake…"

"You know I'm not allowed to…" the nurse said uncertainly. "Maybe I could go and ask if you could get some relaxants to help you sleep."

"No," Emma said swallowing the last two capsules at once. "No more… pills."

For a moment she could almost see compassion in the eyes of the nurse. She gave the younger woman a one sided smile.

"A last wish… of… a dying woman?"

The nurse looked uncertain, like she was trying to decide which ever was the lesser of two evils.

"Oh, alright," she mumbled. "But if anyone asks, you unplugged this thing yourself. And don't blame me if people think you are dead."

Emma gave a rare real smile but unfortunately it went unnoticed as the nurse started toggling with the cursed machine in the corner.

"Here," she said after silencing the thing. "But I goes back on six a.m. Understood?"

"Yes… Thank you…"

"You're welcome," the nurse said with a smallest hint of a smile in her voice. "Sorry about your meeting with your daughter today, by the way. I'm sure things will turn out okay in the end."

In the end.

The nurse left and closed the door behind her.

In the end.

She had some two to three weeks left in her, if the doctors were to be believed. It didn't take a genius to see that she was running out of time like a damn hourglass. But truth be told, she had embraced the idea of death a long time ago. The moment she had heard the bad news she had been ready for it. She had lived a life to its fullest, she had had time to make her dreams come true. She had had a family she had always wanted, she had had friends and all that. Then, one by one people around her had started to die. First her husband, then her friends, one by one. She had been ready to die. Ready to see her loved ones again.

What she had not been prepared for was the wait. The endless hours lying awake in the bed, unable to move, unable to do much anything but wait. To her it felt like they were torturing her, trying to make her life longer by force. And now, here she was. Waiting for death in a strange bed in some hospital which name she couldn't remember.

She knew that this place was what was keeping her alive. If she was to leave, she would hardly have days left, maybe hours, if she was lucky. Luck can be measured from different perspectives.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to be anywhere else but here.

The machine next to her had gone silent. There were some light blinking on the screen but at least it wasn't making noises anymore. To her it was like an hourglass, slowly counting the time she had left. She would be happy to leave it behind.

All of her friends had passed away. Well no, that was a lie. All but one. One remained. The most trusted of them. The one that had stuck with her through hard and worse. He had been there when her father died, when her sister died, when her husband died and he would be there when she herself draw the last breath. And he was currently waiting for her in the parking lot.

Slowly she reached her hand to grab the tube that kept the oxygen flow to her lungs at a normal level. She had asked to know what the name of the damn thing was but she had gotten no answer. Carefully she pulled it out, feeling glad to drop it on the floor. Ever so slowly she climbed down from the bed to remove the rest of the tubes and wires around her. She would need none of those.

The last but not least, the wire hooked from her to that silenced beeping machine. Feeling no remorse she ripped the thing off of her with wavering hands. It took her a while, she stumbled and her fingers didn't want to follow her instructions but in the end she was free of them all. She felt victorious.

Slowly she started walking out of the room. One step at a time. Her legs felt weak under her, they were wavering, ready to let her fall. A fall at her age could be lethal and she was not about to die before getting a one last look at her dearest friend.

All the people were gone. The hallway was empty and silent save for her own ragged breathing. Whether it was pure luck or fate she didn't care. As long as no one would try to stop her she was fine with it.

Step by agonizing slow step she moved. Every movement felt like a sting in her hip, that damn thing she had broken a few years prior on a cold winter day. The pain was yet to dissipate and she doubted it would. But the closer she got to the exit, the less she paid mind to the familiar hum of the pain. She kept moving, unable to stop. Unwilling to stop. She got to the door. It was locked, of course. They didn't want senile patients escaping in the dead of the night now did they? But Emma had been preparing for this too long to give up now. She retracted her steps to the helpdesk. The keys were dangling from a nail on the wall. Like stealing candy from a child.

Opening the door felt like getting out of a prison after decades of time underground. The sky was clear, welcoming her out of her chambers and the night wind made her bones chill. It had been a long time since she had felt this alive. Too long. For a moment she just stood there. Breathing deep. Listening to the silence of the night.

The parking lots were on the other side of the large yard and getting there would take her an eternity. But she had time. It felt like she had all the time in the world. She felt so alive it was easy to forget what she was escaping from. But she would think none of that tonight. So she started walking.

Crickets must have been singing in the night. It seemed like a night when crickets would play, but she had not been able to hear their song in quite many years now. The grass under her bare feet was moist and cold, numbing her from bottom to top with every step. She couldn't help but smile as her wavering steps grew faster, making her sway dangerously. If she fell now, she wouldn't be able to get up on her own. She couldn't call help. She would most likely be found in the morning, as dead as can be. She didn't care. She kept moving.

Emma could see the parking lot now. It was empty save for one car. One car that was patiently waiting for her slow steps. He could have driven closer, he could have come to her instead of letting her walk the painful way from the building to the slots but he didn't. He knew better. He trusted in her, he knew she would make it in time.

Slow step after another. Her footing wavered, she had to stop to catch her breath. So close now. Her heart was stammering in her chest like a jackhammer. So close. Just a few steps. She swallowed down the whine that threatened to climb out and wiped away the sweat from her brow.

She stumbled. She fell. The car moved only a little, catching her before she would hit the ground. Emma leaned against the metal frame of him, sighing silently with content. She could feel the soft vibrations of the engine that was slowly waking up under her.

"Okay… old boy…" she breathed. "Are you ready… for one last ride?"