Death by Splat

It's 3078. The age when everyone is immortal. Unless you don't have a card of course. The cards are free. But if you don't have a card, you die die.

And that's what happened on July 3rd, 3078.

A windows cleaner fell from one of the windows he was cleaning.

This usually wouldn't have been a problem, but when ambulance-drone refused to touch the body. It scanned the code. No card. No revival. And some of the people who saw him knew him. Knew he had no card. Knew he wouldn't survive. Knew he wouldn't be revived. They knew.

Here's the recap.

***

Jonas Wilson

I know Sebastian O'conner. He cleans the windows. Sebastian and I aren't friends. We just know each other. Every morning we would nod to acknowledge the other, then walk on to do our business. In his case, going outside and cleaning the windows outside my apartment, room 3b. In my case, going to the office and working.

So on July 3rd, 3078, at exactly 4:19, Sebastian O'conner fell. He fell and fell and fell. I saw it all as I climbed out of the taxi.

It took exactly ten seconds. It felt like hours to me.

I knew he didn't have a card. He wouldn't be revived. But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

All I could think about was: Sebastian.

I had never really told him how much I appreciated him. He knew if he fell, his life would be over. He knew the consequences of not having a card.

Yet he went to work every day, cleaning the windows. Scrubbing them clean of the dust that flew through the air. The bird poop that left streaks of white. The mud of splatters shoes as they climbed up the building, just to splat back down. His job never ended.

And he had died not knowing how much I appreciated it.

And I cried. And cried. And cried.

Daniel O'Conner

I was watching my dad work while I did my homework. He was spectacular. Like spider-man from those thousand-year-old comics.

So I saw when his grip slipped. When he dangled. When he fell. I rushed to the window. I saw him hit the ground. Hard.

And when he splattered.

It's why it's called splatting. People do it for fun. You splat, die, get revived, do it again.

I saw those people think he was a splatter. But then they saw his cleaning supplies. Then they knew he was a window cleaner. Not a splatter

They knew, when the Ambulance-drone refused, that he had no card. They knew there was nothing they could do.

He was dead. I choked down a scream.

My dad was dead. My superhero. The person I admired. The one I looked up to. The man I loved. He was dead.

In ten seconds. 

And then it was over. It was all over.

Ivy Taylor

I loved Sabby. 

When I scraped my knees, he tended to them. When I couldn't fall asleep, he would read me a bedtime story. When it rained, he would pitch a tent for me to sleep inside.

I was 5 years old and an orphan, living by myself on the top of Sabby's building.

He always told me that if he got hurt real bad, he wouldn't be able to come back, not like other people. He didn't believe in being immortal he had told me.

Of course, I didn't understand what he was saying. I was only 5.

But when I saw him burst, I knew he wasn't coming back. 

My Sabby, the person who had held me tight, and whispered me comfort, wasn't coming back.

I had sobbed. Wailed like a baby, even though Sabby told me I was a big girl. He was my only family. The only one there for me.

So now, now that Sabby was gone, I was all alone.

Jenifer Robinson

Subway Conner was it?

He was the servant that cleaned my windows.

I didn't care.

When he fell, I kept strolling along, toward the side door, that leads to my fancier-than-the-rest apartment.

But when I heard the gasps I turned around. The ambulance drone was flying away. Without Seabill Cooper.

Which meant he had no card.

Whatever. Like it mattered. But I hesitated.

Because it did matter. If he had no card, he was dead. Gone from this world. And he was the best in the business. I sigh and make a few phone calls.

They refuse.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but Sebastian O'Conner did not want to have a card. He refused to accept one, and he made his personal law saying that no one, not even him, could get him a card."

That's what they all say.

I am frustrated. Without him, my windows won't be as clean. The other guys just clean it quickly and messily, putting their muddy boots on it as they move to the next one.

No, I needed Sastain Onnerc.

But everyone says that Sabriel O'Cooper made his personal law that now one, not even him, could give him a card.

He was fierce, I'll give him that. I finally decided to let it go. Get a professional cleaner. He wanted to die, he died.

It was never the same again.

Nolan Mitchel

Sebastian O'Conner was Nolan's only friend. Well, technically, Sebastian wasn't a real real friend.

Sebastian was the only one who stopped to chat when Nolan gave him the newspaper. They talked about politics, the comics, the headings, the ads, everything in the newspaper. But sometimes they talked about other stuff.

Nolan told Sebastian about his family. His mum, pa, sister, and brother.

Sebastian told him about his son, his wife, and the little five-year-old orphan on the rooftop who he took care of.

So Nolan was riding home and he always took the route that went along Sebastian's apartment so they could talk some more.

But instead of him seeing Sebastian start to climb down because he was high up, and saw Nolan before Nolan saw Sebastian, he saw him fall.

And splat.

Sebastian had told Nolan how he didn't have a card. How he didn't believe that humans should be immortal. Nolan had partially agreed. He agreed with Sebastian, but he still had a card. Because Nolan wanted to live.

Nolan had told Sebastian that when Nolan was 100 years old, he would take out the card, remove the card, destroy the card. So the next time Nolan got hurt, he would die.

But Sebastian was gone.

Sebastian.

Nolan saw a man freeze, saw a woman stride away, then hesitate, and come back. He saw the boy from the apartment crying, and he heard the wails of the orphan on the roof.

***

Now you understand Sebastian O' Conner.

He was appreciated.

He was loved.

He was loved even more.

He was helped.

He was talked to.

But he died.

He was a half friend

He was a dad.

He was a helper.

He was a unique window cleaner.

He was a friend.

But he was him.

He hated Immortality.

He accepted death.

Sebastian O'Conner died.