Precocious...

As you can imagine a life entering a body causes quite pull. That first gasp of air before the cry. It's not just the lungs filling. It's the whole essence of who you are entering. First breath. First life. First spark. The uniqueness of you, what is commonly called your soul, enters the vessel and you begin your life. 

The moment the girl was born, the instant she drew her first breath a woman on the floor below in the hospital was drawing her last. 

In the rush of entry and exit there was a bit of an accident. 

The pull of her own soul entering her body was so strong that it sucked up the soul that had left the other woman.

It didn't happen often. But it wasn't unheard of. Some people argue that's really what schizophrenia was, you weren't imagining the voice you heard, it was the extra soul you accidentally trapped as you were born. Multiple personality disorder could be explained this way as well. It really was multiple personalities trying to control one vessel. 

Luckily for the girl the woman she shared her space with was the patient sort. The calm in the face of a crisis sort. She figured out what happened right away. Some souls took longer. Being plunged into a new vessel, one that didn't feel like the previous one, one that didn't have the control over itself that the old one had, one that had limited resources to move, think, reason, on its own, it could be a scary proposition. But the woman understood where she was, and how it had probably happened and that she wasn't alone.  

She had been a teacher and mother and a grandmother in her own life. She had worked with children for many years. Her own and her students and her grandchildren. She understood how to get the best out of them. So that's what she did.

The girl's parents wondered what they did to get so lucky. She rarely cried for long. Was a self soother. Would hum songs and rock herself back to sleep. She potty trained herself basically as soon as she could walk. She was reading by age 3. And always seemed to be considering the world and what it had on offer. When asked a question she would pause before answering. A deep thinker. They were so lucky to have her. Her younger brother dispelled any idea that they might have had that it was their superior parenting and genes. 

She excelled in school. Her teachers always remarked that she was just an old soul. So grown up. So thoughtful. 

When she was 17 years old she was in a terrible car accident. Broadsided in an intersection by a drunk driver. The paramedics said it was a miracle she survived. What they didn't realize is that she hadn't. Not completely. She had died in the wreck. But only one soul was expected and so only one soul left. The woman made sure that it was the right soul that left. With a final push to tuck the girl away in a corner she fled up and out of the vessel. She blew a kiss to the girl and was gone. 

The girl was lonely at first. Her thoughts all her own. No other voice mulling things over with her. But the woman had taught her so much. Had talked to her and more importantly had listened to her over the years. 

After she left the hospital she researched the public records to see who had died on the day she was born. She narrowed it down to three women, then two, and finally to one. She visited the gravesite of Ruth Claire and placed a bouquet of violets on the headstone. Violets were her favorite. And she knew that was because they were Ruth Claire's. 

She whispered thank you and turned to walk out of the cemetery.

 Alone.