This story is a highly-condensed version of a story based on a dream I had this past Monday (it therefore counts!) ;)
I'll be posting the full version either this weekend or early next week. Without further ado!
Word count: 492
Jenny knew she was dieing from the age of eight – an incurable illness that would likely kill her before she turned twelve. After her tearful funeral a year later she was sent off to the Marlayna Children’s School for the remainder of her corporeal existence. Part hospital, part boarding school, part monastery, the Marlayna School was part of a vast nationwide network of centers where the dieing learned how to do so peacefully in a medically observed, yet supportive environment.
Jenny liked her new home and made friends quickly – all were terminally ill like herself and all were under the age of fifteen. The children had a couple hours of academic studies each day (just in case they miraculously pulled through and needed to reenter society). They had music, dance and art classes as well as copious amounts of play time; but the main focus was yoga and meditation.
When Jenny was ten years old, she noticed she was getting weaker rather than stronger. Her caregivers took notice too and paid her special attention, reminding her of her breathing techniques when her heart fluttered. She practiced her mindfulness and letting go of tension. Finally the moment came during reading time – she felt a shudder rake her whole body as her heart skipped into an arrhythmia that no amount of coughing would reset. A strange sense of disorientation took her and she was distantly aware that she was no longer breathing.
When Jenny’s senses settled, she was still sitting in her chair, though she knew she was now dead.
Her caregiver, Margaret set her book down and said, “Well done Jenny, you handled the start of Transition beautifully. Now stand up and look at your body.”
Amidst the admiring stares of her classmates, Jenny got up easily from her seat and turned to look at her shed physical form – which could just as easily had been sleeping. Jenny felt no sadness at having been permanently dislodged from her body – it would be handled by the school staff, this was her final chance to say goodbye to it.
For the next few days living people would still be able to see her and she’d still be able to interact with the world around her. People in Transition didn’t float like stereotypical ghosts; they weren’t transparent per say, though it was obvious they were no longer fully corporal. Jenny knew her form would become more nebulous as she moved through Transition – slowly aligning itself to the higher vibrational frequency of the Next Plane.
When she was finished inspecting her body, Margaret led Jenny back to her room to help get her packed for her trip home. Though she’d already said goodbye to her friends and family, she would need to go back and visit all her old “haunts” to make sure no lingering desires or regrets remained behind to hold her back from completing Transition. It was her chance to say goodbye to being alive.