The sorting hat is placed on your head. It says nothing. After what seemed like an eternity, the hat says, "Impossible. You shouldn't exist."  - writing-prompt-s

Everyone around you starts whispering. You don't understand why or what's going on. The man standing in front of you, the one who put the sorting hat on your head, is talking into his cufflink. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, ear piece and all. It's hard to make out what he says but you hear something along the lines of, "Sir, there's another one." Another one?

You reach up and remove the sorting hat, that very discreetly whispers, "Go." You think you're just imagining things. The sorting hat as everyone knows tells someone's time of death all for a small fee. It's completely voluntary but most people want to know anyways. It was a week before your birthday, you came on a whim. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

"You're gonna need to come with me." He finally addresses you and now you have the whole room's attention, you're shaking beyond belief. Is this what the hat meant?

You nod silently. He walks away expecting you to follow. He leads you to the backdoor of the establishment, not that there was much. It was shady in general, the whole business took place in a warehouse. But what you see in front of you as you pass through the backdoor makes you question, who runs this business?

In the entire room, there's one elevator and nothing else. The man stops in front of it and again talks into his cufflink. This time you hear everything perfectly, "I have him here, sir. Should I send him up?" The entire time he's looking at you like you're some rare commodity. A rare life form. He nods but you know it's not meant for you.

The elevator doors open, "Step inside." He says. You take in a deep breath and take slow steps into the elevator. The moment you're inside the doors slam shut. You turn around, it's not your usual elevator. There's no buttons for floors, there's nothing at all. It's just a metal box taking you to who knows where.

It doesn't take long for you to arrive at your destination. The doors chime open. You step outside, it's an office? There's a desk with papers stacked high. The swivel chair turns towards you. There sits the grand reaper himself. He's completely casual about it all, "You must be wondering why you're here. You see," he stands up from his chair moving closer, "You probably don't even know it but you're already dead. I'm sorry to be the breaker of bad news but that's just how it is."

"That's impossible! I can't be dead, my birthday is next week! I'm supposed to be turning twenty five! You must be lying!" You lose all composure.

He snaps his fingers a piece of paper appears in his hands. "Time of death April 24th 2015, one o'clock am. Cause of death, clogged airways." You fall to your knees, tears streaming down your face you don't move your gaze from the ground. But you hear the snap of his fingers, suddenly you're staring at a carpeted floor. The same exact one of your apartment.

"Look around." You shakily rise to your feet, the sight in front of you makes you wish you hadn't. The only source of light coming from the hallway door that's left open ajar. In runs a group of paramedics, they rush to the figure lying still on the couch. "Please, you have to save him!" A young woman cries hysterically but you can't remember her or who she's supposed to be to you. "I can't live without him. I love him." Her voice breaks near the end. You double over, clutching your head in pain.

"You drank too much your 21st birthday. You passed out. Your friends were thoughtful enough to lay you on the couch but their less than sober minds forgot the most important part. To lay you on your side, you choked on your own vomit." The paramedic removes the stethoscope and shakes his head. He signals to his fellow coworkers to get the gurney. She realizes it's too late, "No. No. No." She mumbles through her tears. Her hands covering her face, the light illuminating her the ring on left hand.

He places a hand on my shoulder, "She was the reason why you were "alive". You're a fragment of her imagination, her memory." He snaps his fingers for the third time. It's the same room. But it's barren. She's holding the doorknob on her way out, "Maybe things would've been different. If you were still here." She whispers as she closes the door.

"You came to me for the same reason. After all this time, your fiancé can let you go. In order for you to exist, you couldn't remember her while you were alive. Once I send you onto the next world, you will regain your memories for a short period of time as you're passing onto your next life."

The pain in your head subsides, you close your eyes in relief. Memories flash rapidly.

"Let me take you out to dinner, my treat." She smiles. The first date.

"Happy anniversary!" She's gorgeous dressed in red. The first year anniversary.

"You know I love you, right?" Tears cascading down her cheeks, you lean in to kiss her temple. "We'll get through this, we always do." The first quarrel.

You try to blink away the tears as you chuckle slightly at the good memories you see. Once it's over, you stand up again. The grand reaper snaps his fingers for the last time, you're back in the office. He pulls a contract out of his sleeve and a quill out of his pocket. "Just sign this and you'll be on your merry way." You take the quill from him and hesitantly sign. The contract burns out of thin air. Slowly everything begins to fade away from your vision.

The last word you hear is, "Go."