Are You Ready Annie? by Martin McNeil.

Annie awoke to the feel and smell of soft, clean linen against her skin. Yesterday’s flight had exhausted her, but she’d slept well, and felt rested. She lay on her back wriggling her toes, deriving a childlike pleasure.

   Reaching for the handset beside her bed, she drew back the curtains to reveal an uninterrupted view of distant mountains, their still, lifeless forms, boasting a permanence denied to the living. She’d always wanted to see the Alps and now, there they were. A pair of sparrows were feeding off insects from the window ledge. They seemed preoccupied with the business of life. How long do they live for? she mused.

   There was a knock on the door and Alice entered, her beaming, generous smile, lit up the room like a log fire on a winter’s afternoon. She was a soft, bosomy woman, and was to be one of Annie’s personally chosen guides for her journey. Tomas would be her other.

   She had decided to wear a purple blouse that she’d not worn before. Her old friend Carla had bought it for her when they’d taken a sightseeing trip to London. “Then save it for a special occasion,” Carla had insisted, as she handed over the designer labelled carrier bag. Annie wondered what Carla would have thought about her wearing it today. She missed her dearly.

   Alice helped her get dressed. There was no timetable and no urgency. She had all day if she wanted, though she was mindful that her son had a flight to catch that evening.

   She asked Alice to help her onto the toilet. As she sat there, she heard a voice from the garden below. An American man was talking loudly into a phone.“We have one booked for today. A lovely English lady, terribly sad really.”

“No, we don’t require a doctor to attend – you don’t need one to help you die anymore. You can keep them to help out at state executions instead.” He’d joked.

As Annie sat alone, staring at the patterned tiles, a wave of apprehension swept through her. She was committed to this course, she really was, but now the hour was upon her, she felt an impulse to delay. Silly woman, pull yourself together, this is what you’ve wanted. But her inner voice questioned whether she really wanted to die here, today? She couldn’t back out now, everybody was here for her. It would be awful, so embarrassing to have wasted everybody’s time. “Be strong Annie, everything will be okay,” she could hear the reassuring sound of her late husband’s voice as she thought those words, and her calm, determined, resolve returned once again.

    The family gathered for breakfast on the garden terrace, Sandra, her eldest, and her son Michael. Her brother Peter had flown over as well. They laughed, reminisced, and talked about everything other than the reason they were all there.

   Annie held a satsuma in her hand and pierced its outer skin with her thumb nail. She held it under the table and tried to tear it, but couldn’t get a firm grip on the peel. She fumbled and the satsuma fell to the floor, unnoticed by the others. The centre’s resident Labrador retrieved it and dropped it into her lap. Annie decided that it was time.

   Her three loved ones rose and gathered around her, each placing their hands carefully upon her wasted body, taking it in turns to stoop and lay kisses upon her head and face. “Are you sure, Annie?” asked Peter, as his tears dripped onto her blouse. “Yes Peter, I’m sure. I love you.”

   Tomas pressed the alert button that hung from a lanyard around his neck, then stepped forward and gently spun Annie’s wheelchair around to face the main building, before escorting her away to begin her journey. The family remained at the table; protocol demanded that only the traveler and their personal guides could enter the chamber. They would see Annie again after she’d reached her final destination. They’d seen inside the chamber when they’d accompanied her for the induction tour and knew what awaited her inside. The pod had looked like one of those coin-operated space craft you see positioned inside shopping malls to entice small children. Peter had thought that with its egg yellow livery, it looked like a cross between Thunderbird Four and an oversized, car roof box. Its cheerful exterior masking its true, deadly purpose.

   Annie and Tomas arrived at the entrance to the foyer and, on cue, Moon River began to play from a myriad of tiny ceiling speakers. It had been the theme to her favourite film. She hadn’t minded that her husband had a thing for Aubrey Hepburn, why not? She was beautiful, after all. Annie wondered if she too might have had a thing for her. She smiled at the thought; perhaps in another life?

   As they passed through the foyer, some of the staff came out to wave goodbye. Annie waved back at them like a passing monarch. They’d turned towards the corridor when Annie asked if she could use the bathroom. Tomas smiled and said he’d fetch Alice. “Tomas, I just want to protect my dignity by having a quick wee before I go in. If it won’t scar you to help an old lady onto the toilet, let’s just do it.” Annie doubted that the sight of an old fanny would trouble Tomas much. After all, it would be redundant shortly, like the rest of her, and she didn’t care if Thomas caught a glimpse. Besides, the bloody thing had proven to be the death of her; it was up there where the damn thing had hatched, before it had upped sticks and toured the rest of her body.

  As they reached the end of the corridor, the door to the chamber was opened by a smiling Alice.

“Are you ready, Annie?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” Annie replied.

Tomas wheeled Annie into the chamber, towards the awaiting pod.

*Author’s note: The Sarco self activated suicide pod was unveiled earlier this year. It is currently  waiting approval for use by the Swiss authorities.

Martin McNeil

Image: Sarco suicide pod from Wikicommons share alike – a sleek, purple pod with a clear top and bands of silver. Controls can be seen inside and it sits at an angle on a purple dais.