Re: first class ; baths
"There may be those that are never ready, but there will always be some who are ready. Who are tired of this life and its burdens, who long for peace." There were days when he felt as such, wondering if perhaps he was ready to open his own arms and welcome what was truly his, but then the thought of not having another tomorrow terrified him into holding on with all that he had. Tomorrow had to be better, had to hold some promise. What other reason was there to live, after all.
"Who bids you? Who tells you who to go to? God?" Was there a god? The dead boy didn't know the answer to that, had never considered himself a spiritual type, but if Death was bid to one person or another, someone had to give him direction, and that seemed the likeliest answer. "You prepare by being at peace. By saying goodbye. By being willing to say that today is your last day upon this earth." The boy stilled for a moment, looking out at the water in the baths, so still that he had to disturb it. A kick at the water with that skeletal leg, ripples sent out across the surface, giving him something to focus on for a moment.
The chuckle, if it could be called that, drew his attention to the cloaked figure at his side. "And when you receive an invitation? How do you feel?" Another kick, the ripples increasing, spreading, dying out.