The Choice

Chapter 25

Devon: You are a dead human. You died before the age of thirty. Because you died so young, the Universe was not able to collect enough data on who you are and your impact on the world to determine which afterlife you deserve, so you have been placed in the training center. Here, you will be trained in the ways of Good, Evil, and in more rare cases, Neutral, to serve the Balance of The Universe as needed. For more details on your specific age when you died and how long you are expected to serve, refer your questions to Orion.

Now that you are dead, you no longer have a physical body, though it still feels and functions similarly to a physical form. Because you no longer have a physical body, food, hydration, shelter, and hygiene are no longer necessities for your survival; however, they can still play a large role in your mental and emotional satisfaction. The training center is designed to function as similarly to the human world as possible to aid you during your transition, so do not be afraid to do whatever feels natural to you. The one thing your soul/consciousness still needs is rest, though here, rest does not strictly mean sleep. Any form of relaxation you are able to find will recharge you and get you ready to face the day.

Many new trainees experience nausea, dizziness, and lethargy upon their arrival to the training center, but it should not persist beyond the first week. After that, you should not experience any physical illness unless directly linked to a substance you have ingested. If at any point you are feeling particularly ill, find and inform a neutral being and they can get you treatment. You retain all the senses and mobility you had in your life, as well as your understanding of the world and how it works. You do not possess any memories from your life, as most of them were fairly traumatic and would only inhibit you from your training. Not remembering your life can be confusing and, at times, frustrating, but as you settle into your new routine and start making new, meaningful connections, it will get easier.

I paused in my typing and let out a long sigh. "This all sounds so stiff. I can't tell if it's obvious I'm talking out of my ass." I stretched my fingers, then raised my arms over my head. I was reminded once more that stretching was not necessary for a being without a physical body, but it still felt good. I decided to stop questioning it, and bent my head down towards my shoulder. I froze as my hair tickled my shoulder, a memory of Noah flashing through my mind, through my whole body. I doubled over, my head between my knees, and took slow, deep breaths until the pain of their absence passed once more. Thank god I can move again, breathe again... It makes coping so much easier.

I let out a weak laugh as I realized just how often I thought of, referenced, or called out to god in moments of desperation. I wasn't even certain I believed god was real in my life. And now I knew for certain that he wasn't. I had been raised catholic, but after my dad died, my mom couldn't handle going regularly anymore. Out of obligation, we still attended Easter and Christmas mass, and of course, we'd always go light a candle for my dad on the anniversary of his death. As if a tiny flame could protect anyone from that, I thought with a shiver as my mind turned once again to what images of the Universe my mind was capable of processing.

I let out another slow exhale and sat back up, looking around my small cave. I wish I had a bed. A loud pop sounded behind me, I didn't need to look. I wish I had a rack to hang up clothes. Another pop. "Why? I have this whole world all to myself. Why bother with modesty now?" I said cynically. But I loved clothes. As much as I loved being naked, I still appreciated the art of clothing. I wish I had a giant, purple gown. Pop. I got up from my chair and moved to try on the gown. I wish I had a mirror. Pop. I looked at myself in the mirror, smiling gently as I made the ruffles sway.

"I wish... I had a picture of Noah on my desk..." Pop. I turned back to my desk, my heart thumping as I found the same picture I'd found in their file when I'd recovered their memories. It wasn't the image I was hoping for, but it still made my heart ache. I moved back to my desk and sat down, pulling the picture frame into my lap. I traced my fingertips over the protective glass, tears welling in my eyes. I clutched the frame to my chest as a sob escaped my lips.