Sirens. Screaming. The terrible chill down her spine.
And then the scoreboard lit up.
It was bright, she knew, but the light didn’t hurt her eyes. There was no pain anymore. Only the numbers in front of her. A lifetime of steps, blinks, heartbeats- even hiccups. Numbers so big it was difficult to comprehend. And so so many. A different number for every action. Statistics for things she didn’t remember and things she wanted to forget.
She could only remember a small fraction of the 840,960,000 times her heart had beat, but she could remember each of the 3 times her heart had broken. The smaller figures- heartbreaks, broken bones, moving home, almost dying- those had little arrows by the numbers. She clicked one experimentally.
A date. A time.
Tap to replay memory, it read.
She let out a breath, or did she? It was hard to tell anymore. There was only the numbers in front of her. The statistics of a life lived- however briefly. 20 years laid out neatly before her. The list stretched on. Everything she had experienced, every moment of happiness, fear, sadness, and rage- ready to replay at the touch of a finger.
Which one should she chose?
