Dear ▇▇▇▇▇, (click: "Dear ▇▇▇▇▇")[
This email is to inform you that your services are no longer required at ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇.] (click: "no longer required")[
Failure to meet performance standards and excessive tardiness are some of the reasons we have made the decision to formally terminate your employement as of ▇▇-▇-▇.] (click: "formally terminate")[
From ▇▇-▇-▇ on, you won't be eligible for any compensation or benefits associated with your position. Please mail all company property to the Human Resources department, effective immediately.] (click: "effective immediately")[
Attached, you will find a review of our documentation and the disciplinary actions we have taken leading to this decision, as well as a review of the confidentiality agreement. [[Remember to]]][[...]]In simple terms, [[you've been fired]].
You never quite understood the corporate need to provide formal, lengthy documentation every time. You leaned back in your seat, sinking into the couch cushions.
Your tired eyes glanced around your shell of a living room. As you accumulated more debt, you turned over more of your personal belongings for cash. You could hardly remember what your place looked like before everything turned to shambles.
The place you call home is a small, dingy apartment somewhere in the outskirts of the city. It has a living room that's attached to a small kitchen, one bedroom, and one bathroom. It was so far out of the way that you had to take the train every morning to work, and there wasn't a single convenience store within walking distance. You ultimately chose this location because this was the only place where the rent was within your budget.
However, over the years, the rent only increased, while your pay remained the same. You were barely managing to scrape by with your meager prospects; then, you got fired. [[It wasn't the first time either]]. You were back to the cyclical life of job surfing and interviews until you got hired. Briefly, you considered resigning from this kind of life and moving back in with your parents, but considering you hadn't talked to them since you graduated college, you wouldn't know where to begin. You didn't even know if they would take you in.
Turning on your phone again, you idly scrolled through your emails after having deleted the one about your recent termination. You remembered being fresh in college with a ton of emails about how recruiters on campus were hiring, scholarship opportunities where you could earn money, and competitions to get seen with the additional incentive of prizes. Now, your inbox was so empty you were surprised it hasn't started growing cobwebs.
However, while scrolling, one email in particular caught your eye. It had to have been nothing more than spam, but the peculiarity of the title seized your attention.
[[LOW ON CASH? SELL YOUR LIFESPAN.]]
Your finger [[hovered over the trash]] icon. (set: $will to 1)The email itself only consisted of a link to a website you never heard of before. Out of morbid curiousity, you clicked on it.
It brought up a simple site with a clean layout. It detailed what they did as a business and where they were located. They ran something called a "life bank", where they would evaluate a person's whole life and buy their remaining years in exchange for money. A quick Google search proved they were legit and located in a fairly normal building somewhere downtown, though you noted that they didn't have any reviews and the search brought up their site only.
It was a novel idea, and you were curious how they evaluated each person. Considering you had nothing left to lose, you decided you would [[go in tomorrow]]. You spent the rest of your evening not getting much done. You made yourself dinner that consisted of whatever was left in your pantry, which was instant ramen and expired granola. Then, you got ready for bed and went to sleep on the couch. (set: $trashed to true, $wont to 1)Without a second thought, you deleted the email.
It was a novel idea, but that's all it was to you. There were too many things on your plate for you to spend time reading something that wouldn't have been much help anyways.
You spent the rest of your evening clearing out your practically empty inbox before scrolling through job sites. After being disappointed at the lack of available positions, you made yourself dinner that consisted of whatever was left in your pantry, which was instant ramen and expired granola. Then, you got ready for bed and [[fell asleep->go in tomorrow]] on the couch. (if: $trashed is true)[Somehow, you found yourself standing outside of the life bank. Your curiosity eventually won over you, and you ended up moving the email out of the trash and reading it.](else:)[You stood outside of the building in apprehension.] You didn't know what to expect; the thought of selling some of your lifespan for money felt uncanny.
Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside. The moment you entered the building, you took a look around. It was fairly empty besides the neat and organized rows of shelves containing books you couldn't decipher the titles of. Besides yourself, there was only a receptionist typing away at her computer. Upon hearing your entrance, she stopped typing, looked up, and asked:
"Welcome. Are you here to exchange your lifespan today?"
You weren't expecting her to be so direct. The only word that tumbled from your mouth was a confused, "Huh?"
"Your lifespan," she repeated, slowly, resuming her typing. "Are you here to sell it today?"
"Oh, right. Sorry." You winced. "And um, yes?"
She raised an eyebrow, giving you eye contact for the first time. "You don't sound very confident."
That's because you weren't. You had a few questions and concerns--namely, what exactly selling lifespan entailed and how much would they give you in exchange for yours.
[["I have a few questions."]](set: $mean to false, $how to false, $why to false, $numasked to 0)She sighed. "Make it quick. I have an appointment soon, and your walk-in was unplanned."
"Thanks...
[[What does selling lifespan mean?"]]
[[How do you evaluate?"]]
[[Of all things, why lifespan?"]](set: $mean to true, $numasked to it + 1)"It's exactly as it sounds. We take whatever portion of your lifespan you are willing to part with at its evaluated price, and the money shows up in your bank account within the hour. Keep in mind, that means you will no longer have the years you gave up."
"So, does that mean I'll die earlier than expected? How does that work?"
"Don't question it too much, but yes, essentially, you will die earlier than you are supposed to."
You remained silent as you digested the new information. On one hand, you never really know [[what might happen]] in the future, but on the other hand, you [[didn't have much]] to look forward to. (set: $how to true, $numasked to it + 1)"Well, we look at your overall life. That includes how you lived and how you will live for your remaining years. We take into account all your hopes and aspirations--how many you've managed to accomplish. We take a look at your personal relationships--those close to you, and if you managed to maintain those bonds. Your happiness, your health, your contributions--too many factors go into determining what a person's life is worth."
"It really is everything then. How do you know what happened in the past?"
"Well, the fact that we buy lifespan should be a telling sign that anything is possible here."
"... Right. How could I have forgotten?"
"Exactly. How could you have," she retorted dryly.
You refrained from snarking back.
What stuck out to you the most about the evaluation was the weight your dreams and your relationships had on your life's value. You [[never really gave them much thought]] until today. (set: $why to true, $numasked to it + 1, $wont to it + 1)"Some people don't have the luxury of living full lives. Those with terminal illness and those wanting more time to spend with their loved ones are some examples. We buy the lifespans of those who no longer want theirs to fulfill the dreams of those who do."
"I guess that makes sense. It's an equivalent exchange."
"Precisely."
You never thought about it like that. In a way, you would be giving up your lifespan for someone else who didn't have as many years as you did; it made you appreciate the time you had--if not, a little more.
"Anything else?" She looked at you [[expectantly]]. "Thanks...
(if: $mean is false)[[[What does selling lifespan mean?"
]]](if: $how is false)[[[How do you evaluate?"
]]](if: $why is false)[[[Of all things, why lifespan?"
]]](if: $numasked > 1)[ [[I'm done asking."]]](set: $wont to it + 1)"I'll keep that in mind," you answered honestly.
It seemed your younger self also never knew what would happen in the future. Never did you imagine you would find yourself out of a job twice in a year. When you were younger, you had big plans for your future, but now you were here at a bank that was going to determine how much that future was worth.
However, as much as your future was unplanned and unexpected, so were the potential for good things to come. Nobody's life was predetermined, and while you were certainly faced with misfortune, you had an equal chance for something to change.
"Anything else?" She looked at you [[expectantly]]. (set: $will to it + 1)"I'll keep that in mind," you answered tensely.
What was the point of losing a few years? Or ten? Twenty?
You had spent too much of your life already struggling to get by. Most of your big plans from when you were younger were left unfinished. At least with the money, you could do something with yourself--finally go travel or eat out at a fancy restaurant, without worrying about bills.
"Anything else?" She looked at you [[expectantly]]. (set: $dreams to true)When you were younger, you had too many dreams and aspirations, so much so, that you could hardly keep track of them all. You wanted to be everything--a painter, a doctor, a lawyer, a professional dancer, and much, much more. And now, what happened?
You had gone to through your years of schooling, graduated from college with a generic degree, and worked a nine to five like almost everybody else. Where had your dreams gone then?
You kept telling yourself that you [[still have time]], but at this point, you're starting to [[give up]]. (set: $relations to true)When you were younger, you lived with your parents, as all kids have done. You went to school, made some friends, and then moved on.
Graduating from college was the turning point. You moved out of your hometown in favor of living near your workplace, despite your parents' disapproval. You still haven't talked to them since your fight when you left.
You tried keeping in contact with some of your college friends. However, as you grew older and further apart, your texts grew more sporadic until they eventually stopped altogether.
You kept telling yourself that you [[still have time]], but at this point, you're starting to [[give up]]. A reality of growing into adulthood was that you left many of your fond memories with your youth, and that included your dreams and relationships. Like a well worn pair of shoes, you discarded them when they no longer fit.
It's been so long that you couldn't tell which one you held in higher regard: your [[dreams]] or your [[relationships]]. (set: $wont to it +1)If you sold your lifespan right now, how many (if: $dreams is true)[dreams](else-if: $relations is true)[relationships] would you miss out on? You didn't want to think about it.
"Anything else?" She looked at you [[expectantly]]. (set: $will to it +1)If you sold your lifespan right now, you wouldn't have to worry about your (if: $dreams is true)[dreams](else-if: $relations is true)[relationships] anymore. They would all turn into bygones that you could forget about.
"Anything else?" She looked at you [[expectantly]]. (if: $numasked is 3)["Awfully curious one, aren't you?](else:)["Alright then.] I hope my answers were satisfactory."
Your wracked your brain for any more potential questions but drew blank. The receptionist, having noticed you were done, asked again:
"So, are you planning to sell your lifespan?"
Weighing your options, you decided:
(if: $wont > $will)[ [["No, I won't."]]](else:)[ [["Yes, I will."]]]"Your evaluation will take approximately two hours. Please return here when it's time."
Suddenly, you're reminded of a morality question from way back when you were still in school over the price of human life. It was a question that left you wondering even hours after you had left the classroom, and you asked your parents for their opinion as well.
Amidst the various answers you received from your peers, parents, and teacher, the conclusion you had drawn that day was that a human life was priceless. However, it seemed that your conclusion was wrong, and the value of your life would be calculated in a mere two hours.
You managed a weak thanks in response to her statement, and the receptionist gave you a nod in return before standing up.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. Good day."
Unlocking the door behind her desk, she stepped inside. It shut with a soft click behind her, leaving you alone in the room with your meddlesome thoughts. "That is understandable. It is a tempting offer, so I applaud you for your resolve."
You're reminded of the morality question involving the price of a human life, and you came to the conclusion that life was priceless because it was so invaluable. You were only going to have one life for now and forever, so why not live it to the best of your ability?
"Thanks for everything," you said genuinely.
"No problem." For the first time that day, the receptionist offered you a small smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. Have a good day."
Unlocking the door behind her desk, she stepped inside. It shut with a soft click behind her.
You idled in the lobby a bit more before leaving the life bank with all your years intact. Thoughts of what you should do next made each of your retreating steps lighter than the last.