Copyright 2010 by Lisa Teller

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their
respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
                                                    

     On the morning of my untimely demise, I expected to be drawn up into a cloud surrounded by angels. I anticipated trumpets playing Amazing Grace and a vision of the pearly gates. But as it turns out the only thing I saw that morning was my body slumped over the steering wheel of my Ford Mustang. While my soul hovered overhead I struggled to make sense of it all. Eventually, I realized I wasn’t alone. Joining me was Lizzie Gordon the creepy Goth girl from my third period English class. As it turns out, she ran the stop sign and hit me head on causing our fatal crash.

     “Are you dead?” She asked.

     That was the last thing I had remembered before I found myself to be standing in a long line with a group of souls whose life had been cut way to short. I looked around for Lizzie, but she wasn’t there. After waiting most of the morning, my ALA (Afterlife Advisor) approached me. She looked pretty ordinary. Her red hair piled neatly atop her head was pulled into a bun, and her bifocals teetered on her nose.

     “Name,” She asked abruptly.

     “Jackie Marks, but everyone calls me Jax.”

     “Well, Jax my name is Madge. I’m your ALA,” she said pointing to her name tag.“I’m here to answer any questions you may have before you're recycled.”

     “Recycled? What am I a soda can?"

     "We're not in the soft drink business. We recycle souls."

     "Souls?"

     "Yes, it wasn’t your time to go; therefore, you’ll be recycled.”

     “What exactly does that mean?” I asked taken aback.

     “It means you’ll get to go back.”

     “Phew!” So, I’m not dead, I’m just having a bad hair day and a near death experience?”

     “Oh, You’re dead alright!”

     “That sucks!" I said throwing myself back into the chair.

     “Don't worry, I can fix the dead thing, but the hair isn't an option.”

     “If I’m dead, how do I go back?”

     “That’s what I’m here for, think of me as the real estate agent for your soul.”

     “I’m not sure I follow. I thought when you die you either go up or down.”

     “Technically your right, but every once in a while― as you can see,” she grinned, motioning to the line. “A guardian angel gets distracted, and we have a slight mishap. Nobody’s perfect ya know ―except HIM,” she said pointing upwards.

     “Basically you’re saying my guardian angel messed up, and because of it I’m dead?”

     “Pretty much. Now, it’s my job to find a body for your soul so, you can complete your purpose.”

     "My Purpose?"

     "Yes, everyone has a purpose."

     "Really, what's yours?"

     "Look, little miss sassafrass my purpose is to find you a life!"

     "Will I still be Jackie Mark's?”

     Madge ignored me. “I have a few options for you,” she said, searching her computer. “You can return as a newborn, in which case you can choose to be either a boy or girl, and I can have you back on earth in a few days. This would be the easiest transition.”

     “What are my other options?”

      “Your other option would be to enter the body of a person whose soul has already moved on.”

      “I’m not sure I understand.”

      "The soul that has completed its purpose has the option to move on, their physical body may or may not survive. Sometimes the soul leaves the physical body vacant. Leaving it open as a vessel for another to take over. This transition is the hardest because basically you become a walk in.”

     “A walk-in?”

     “Yes, you walk into their life, their memories, their friends, and their family. This option is always the most difficult.”

     “So, either way I'll no longer be Jackie Marks?”

     “No, you won’t. By all intent and purposes, Jackie Marks is deceased.”

     “Why is it so complicated to walk-in if you have all their memories?”

     “Because hard as we try to purge your physical memories as Jackie Mark's the soul still has connections to people places back on earth.”

     “So, who will I become?”

     “Physically you will become the person you enter, but you'll still have your same likes and dislikes. Family and friends usually notice the personality change, but they chalk it up to the traumatic incident that happened prior to the transformation.”

     “I'm not going back as a baby!" I said exasperatedly. "Childhood was way too tough. Those years were just plain awkward.”

     “Okay, then we need to find a girl about your age.”

     “I want to go back to my home town ―my high school.”

     Madge looked at me over the top of her glasses. “That’s not procedure.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “It’s easier to send you to a new place like a surrounding where you’ll transition better.”

     “Why wouldn’t I transition best around things I know?”

     “Too much déjà vu,” Madge said wrinkling her nose and furrowing her brow.

      “Déjà who?”

      “Déjà-vu! It’s when things seem familiar as if you’ve been there done that. Do you know what I mean?”

     “I suppose, but. . .”

     “To risky. You may remember you past life.”

     “Sounds as if you’ve done this before,” I said.

     “Yes, I have, and I swore I’d never do it again it’s just too uncertain. So, these are your choices,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. I sat quietly while Madge printed out my list of options.

1. Sixteen- year- old Jennie Johnson, Florida.

2. Seventeen-year-old Patty Olsen, California

3. 

     “It appears there are two choices open to you,” Madge said handing me the list.

I studied it carefully before declaring, “I don’t want to go to Florida or California.”

     “You have to agree to the placement otherwise I can’t send you back.”

      “What happens if I don’t agree?”

      “You wait here until something comes up on the list that appeals to you.”

     “You said I had two choices, but there are three listings. Why is the third one blacked out?”

     “It means it’s not a match for you!” Madge said snatching the file from my grasp.

     “Why?” I asked, pressuring her. I could tell she was worried.

     “It’s just too perilous!”

     “Why? Is it someone I know, someone in my home town?” It was at that moment I remembered Lizzie. “Hey, what happened to the girl who hit my car?” Madge was worried. She began shuffling papers around on her desk and fidgeting restlessly. “I saw her! She was hovering over the accident scene like me. . .Why isn’t she here.” I said looking over my shoulder.

     “I’m not allowed to discuss that with you,” she said.

     “Why, what happened to her?”

     “She's fulfilled her purpose,” Madge said leaning across her desk.

     “Did she die too?” I could see the tension in her face. She was undoubtedly hiding something from me.

     “Until we find you a match you will be housed with the others. . .”

     “Why are you being so evasive?" I shouted. "What happened to Lizzie?”

     “I’m not allowed to say. I can only tell you she has moved on.”

     “Is she the name that’s blacked out on your list? Did her soul move on and leave her body vacant? Is that why she’s not here?”

     Madge was flustered, “Yes!” she blurted out.

     “I want to go back as Lizzie Gordon!” I demanded. Upon saying those words, Lizzie instantaneously appeared and was seated next to me. I took one look at her and began having second thoughts. How could I―Jackie Marks― high-school cheerleader, homecoming queen and most popular girl at school go back as Lilly Munster? The intention was daunting, to say the least.

     “Jax, I’m so sorry,” Lizzie said. Madge just sat there shaking her head, realizing she was in the middle of an afterlife crisis.

     “How did I get here?” Lizzie asked annoyed. “It was so peaceful where I was. I want to go back.”

      “Back where, to your life?” I asked.

      “Get the pom-poms out of your ears! It was peaceful where I was. Why would I want to go back down there? That place was a living hell!”

     “Trust me, Lizzie, hell is worse,” Madge said with unmistakable knowledge.

     “I happened to have liked my life.” I said.

     “You would, you were pretty and popular.” Lizzie said rolling her eyes.

     “Yes, I was, and you took all that away from me. What was so important that you ran the damned red light, Elvira?”

     “I already told you I'm sorry," she said raising her voice.

     Madge blew a whistle and began waving her arms for us to stop. “I told you both this was a bad idea. Now you can see I was right. So just agree you are not a good match!”

     “I don’t understand,” I said. “How did Lizzie get here with me?”

     “You summoned her!” Madge said chagrined.

     “How?

     “When you demanded to go back as her.”

     “Why?” I asked confused.

     “You can’t walk-in unless both souls are in agreement. So, when you stated your demand to become Lizzie Gordon― she appeared.”

     “You want to go back as me?” Lizzie said aghast. “Not on your life!”

     “I no longer have a life. You took mine from me.”

     “Technically this was Celeste’s fault.” Madge said. “So don’t blame Lizzie.”

     “Celeste?”

     “Yes, your guardian angel she got distracted and well. . .she’s been reassigned.”

     “I don’t care how I got here! I just want to go back to my life. . . or her life. It doesn’t matter I just want to get back!” I insisted.

     “Well, it matters to me beauty queen," Lizzie said. "We have nothing in common!"

     “Why should that matter?” I asked.

     “I don’t want some dumb cheerleader taking over my body!”

     “Why? Are you afraid I may make you popular and for once, you might actually fit in? The way I figure it Lizzie, you owe me!”

     Lizzie sat glowering at me and then addressed Madge. “Let’s say I agree to this, is it permanent?”

     “What do you mean? You're not seriously entertaining this idea, are you? You agreed to move on. Your purpose has been fulfilled. If you let Jax walk- in essentially she will take over your life.”

     “Isn’t there a trial period or anything?” Lizzie asked.

     “We don’t like to that,” Madge said.

     “Why,” Lizzie asked with scorn in her tone.

    “Because she may like the life she’s walked into and you could decide you don’t want her to keep it. Can you see how this could be a problem? You must both be in agreement.”

That was the last thing I remember hearing.