She was well prepared for her death.
She could feel Death’s grip on her body. A soft caress as first, it grew stronger and stronger until each was a painful stroke.
Panic was a usual reaction, and a rather useless one. No one believed her story. They would say that she was too stressed with her load of work, that she should get a rest. A week spent at the beach, a runaway from this bustling metropolis could certainly help. How could she blame them? But for the vivid proof she felt upon her body, she herself wouldn’t have believed it. But it was so real it left her no way to think otherwise.
If she could not escape her fate, she just had to accept it. Since then she began to prepare for her departure from this world. Everything should be prepared, her motto she well kept, especially such important matters.
She quitted her job of fifteen years, the job which had consumed the prime of her youth. She spent each of her free days left with people she had deliberately neglected in those years of restless working. Her mother whom she scarcely had meals with. Her best friends whom she hadn’t visited for years. Her relatives whom she hardly met due to her busy schedule. Each day passed in laughters, fun and no tears.
She was enjoying her life like she should have been. A late realization.
How much had she missed during those fifteen years? If she had a chance to get them back, would she make the same mistake? She couldn’t answer these questions. It could be different but it could also be the same. She knew herself more than anyone and she knew herself to be one hell of a hopeless workaholic.
She cleaned her house and herself. She gave up her meal and lied down on her bed. “Like a monk”, she thought with amusement before closing her eyes, waiting.
One minute. An hour. A day.
When she opened her eyes after a deep slumber, it was another peaceful morning with birds chirping and people jogging outside her glass window. She remained on her bed, wondering about her state. Death should have claimed her hours ago, as she had estimated. Still, it hadn’t. the proof being her heavily complaining stomach.
Would a dead person feel hungry? Probably not.
A few minutes were spent to consider whether she should get down and prepare something to eat. Her stomach decided in her place.
She waited for another few days in anxiety. What for? The thought amused her. Death, perhaps? That was so crazy everyone would laugh out loud. But if it wasn’t Death, what was she waiting for? A confirmation?
Like the way it had come, it crept away quietly, leaving no trace behind. She was in perplexity. So, it ends, just like that, she mused. Then what should I do next? This turn of event she wasn’t prepared for.
Two months weren’t too long a time but it was enough for her to get adjusted to her “new” life. Getting your life back from Death was a rare experience and she decided that she would live it differently. No deadlines to catch up. No working extra hours. Her saving was sufficient enough for her to lead a lifestyle independent from full-time labor. She could do whatever she liked now. She traveled. She made new friends. She dated. She was living her life to the fullest.
The notion of death was entirely forgotten on her.
As she was on the plane, she felt it once more. Like a shadow, it crept up her thighs and entered her being with an appalling pace.
She heard vaguely a voice inside her ears. “It’s time”, it said.
She had no time to react. She had no time to fear. The world around her crumbled and the last thing she knew was an ear-splitting blast.
This, she wasn’t prepared for.