Everything was so expensive in 2097.

Even dying.

Yume had been saving up for one of the booths. No family, hardly any friends, a job she despised, and no hope of crawling out of her pit of debt, it was all she could look forward to. One of the booths: a way out.  

Now, at the counter of the company, her final paycheck in front of her, her last shred of hope crumbled in front of her.

“We’ve just increased our prices. You’ll have to come back at another time.”

Yume wanted to scream, to cry, something. It wasn’t like the old days, when anyone could off themselves whenever they wanted. Every citizen had a tracker implanted in them from birth, monitoring them for everything, including unlawful attempts at suicide. You had to use a company and one of their booths, or you’d be fined and kept manacled for long periods of time. Yume couldn’t handle that.

“Please …” she begged.

The employee bit her lip. “Well … there is one option.”

“I’ll do it.” Yume didn’t care.

“You take a massive discount on the price of admission if … you agree to allow the booth to be viewable by the public.”

Yume raised her eyebrows. That explained the booths that decorated the streets around the area.

“The discount varies depending on the … attributes of the client.” The employee looked Yume up and down. “You’re not bad, for a slum rat, I’m sure you’d get at least a 50% discount.”

Yume nodded. “I’ll do it.”

The employee directed her down the hall, to an office, where a manager went over paperwork, examined Yume’s body, and offered her a 40% discount on the price. It was exactly how much Yume had, and she agreed.

“Please proceed to our preparation area. A stylist will prepare you. Thank you for your business.” The manager shook Yume hand, eyes raking up and down her body. “I’ll be monitoring your booth from my office. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Yume blushed and headed for the preparation area. A small line had formed. One by one, they vanished into a room, from which they did not return. Yume’s heart was pounding, but she was excited, at long last she’d be free. She was already free, in a way, she’d signed away her life in the office.

When Yume’s turn came, the stylist greeted her kindly. She removed Yume’s clothing and gave her a quick washing, removing the grime of street life. She dressed Yume in a revealing outfit, barely more than strips of ribbon, and covered her face in artful makeup. She cut Yume’s hair quickly and styled it up, off of her neck. The entire process took no longer than fifteen minutes.

“You’re ready. I think … the intersection booth, for someone so lovely.” The stylist smiled. “Good luck, and goodbye.”

She steered Yume into a small chamber and shut the door.

Inside the chamber was the booth, concealed from the outside for now. A plastic tube with a noose dangling. Her noose. Yume shivered in anticipation. Finally, at long last, here she was.

“Step up to the noose, please,” said an automatic voice.

Yume did.

“Place the noose around your neck.”

Yume did. It was soft, and already squeezed around her throat. She loved it.

A slot opened in the wall: a pair of soft cuffs, to match her outfit.

“Please attach the cuff to one wrist, and then the other. You may cuff yourself in front or behind your back. Please note that cuffing your hands in front of your body will statistically lead to a longer procedure.”

Yume didn’t know if she was brave enough for that. She managed to snap on the cuffs behind her back. She was utterly helpless now. It was effectively all over.

“Please wait for the procedure to begin. Thank you for choosing our company.”

Yume waited, panting.

She didn’t have to wait long.

The booth closed behind her, and the plastic lit up, revealing her to the street corner. Yume barely had time to register the faces of interested pedestrians waiting at the intersection before the noose tugged around her neck.

“Oh!” she gasped, as the noose began to reel her upwards. “Oh … oohhhhhhhhh …” she began to groan as the noose lifted her up off the floor. It was painful, but not as painful as she’d imagined. Her legs stretched, thudding against the sides of the booth, but there was no way to balance on it, no traction to speak of. He feet slid against the smooth plastic, and Yume only succeeded in splaying her legs wide enough that the pedestrians below saw that the stylist hadn’t given her any panties.

Phones were out instantly, filming, snapping photos. One girl turned and took a selfie with Yume behind her.

Yume twisted and turned, mouth gaping. Drool slid down her chin. There were speakers in the booth, she knew, pumping the sounds of her groans to the audience. She’d walked past booths like this before, heard it. She’d watched several, envious of the occupants, dreaming of her turn. And now here Yume was, probably giving hope to more than a few in the crowd.

Her lungs burned from lack of air. Yume choked and gasped, spluttering for breath, just a sliver. She wanted to die, but her body was trying desperately to stay alive for just a few more minutes. She was glad she’d cuffed her hands behind her back, currently they were contorted and trying to reach for the noose, to no avail. Had Yume’s hands been in front she would have been trying to loosen the noose, and that would have been too shameful.

She thought of the manager, in his office, watching her on a security camera. She thought of the stylist who’d been so kind and made her so pretty. She thought of the woman at the front desk who’d helped her.

Yume smiled at the crowd below her. Some were filming, some were applauding. A few had the desperate look she’d had not too long ago, desiring a booth of their own. Near the front a couple was kissing, glancing up at Yume and kissing each other more and more passionately. It made Yume feel beautiful, to inspire that kind of lust in people.  

As her kicks became heavier and her lungs screamed, Yume began to slow. Her fingers clawed at nothing and her feet twitched. The crowd began to disperse, except for the most attentive. Yume’s neck felt longer, and her face burned from the blood trapped in her head. Sweat trickled down her back and chest.

She gave a last desperate wriggle, and then fell still. It wasn’t long before darkness overcame her.