Area Student Decides Dying Is Better Than Making Phone Call

Written by: Rhys Shriver

“Woah. Ok. Yes I’ll hold, damn,” Pemberley said.
Photo by: Stephen Lightfoot

Area student Amanda Pemberley was found lying in her bed on September 16, lamenting her fate after refusing to call her doctor.

According to her roommate, Jakob Diez, Amanda had been complaining for several days about a stomach pain that she described as “almost literally stabbing” and “relatively minor blood loss,” until Jakob suggested she set up an appointment with her doctor to see what was wrong.

“You know, you’d think that someone who’s 20 would be responsible enough to know when to go to the doctor’s,” Jakob commented, “but it seems that social anxiety and a slip of the tongue is enough to prevent a two-minute phone call. I know the pot is calling the kettle black a little bit here, seeing as I hid under my bed when someone rang the doorbell yesterday, but at some point you gotta get over it, you know?

“Like, she’s been complaining about the pain for at least a week, but apparently it hurts more to call someone than it does to get out of bed,” Jakob continued, rolling his eyes. “I even offered to call for her, but she said that would be even more embarrassing. Or, at least she tried to in between coughing and wincing.”

When asked for her thoughts during a short moment of lucidity, Amanda explained, “See, I started to call my doctor, but when the secretary asked for my name I told her I was 20 and there was an awkward pause and I just hung up. It’s over. I can never call them again.

“I at least wanted to find out what’s wrong with me,” Amanda continued, “so I googled my symptoms to see what’s up. WebMD said I’m dying, so, I guess I’m dying then, huh?”

In the days following, Amanda was seen doing several tasks such as picking various flowers, buying a nice tuxedo to match the casket she was looking at on eBay, and discussing with her friend Nadia Lycan the flavor of energy drink she’d like served at her funeral party.

“I was going to suggest Grape Gatorade, but I remembered that it tastes too much like the medicine I’m supposed to be taking, so I decided I’d rather go with the classic ‘Cool Blue,’” Amanda explained, clutching the bridge of her nose over the sink as she attempted to stop one of her frequent bloody noses. “And fruit punch reminds me a lot of the color of blood, which I’ve seen too much of recently. I’m fine though, really, this happens all the time,” she continued, stumbling in place apparently lightheaded.

“I’d be more concerned if this didn’t happen every other week,” Nadia stated. “Last month, she bruised her ribs while dancing in her room and the month before that, her knees almost gave out while walking down Peterson Hill. Not even a week ago, I took her to the hospital and she was so surprised by the nurse coming to speak with her that she developed a slight heart murmur.”

Amanda was last seen clutching her stomach, saying, “I refuse to ask the professor for an extension on my midterm paper. I’d rather die,” while clutching onto a tree to regain her balance, before limping to her history discussion.

Content Editor at The MQ

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