Life Passed

A Transgender Paranormal Fantasy

From the Paranormal Visitor Universe

Chapter One: Marcus' Hidden Truth

By Sasha Zarya Nexus

Can Marcus cope with yet another of his clients slipping the bonds of Earth?

Copyright 2008, 2025 by Sasha Zarya Nexus.
All Rights Reserved.

The medical monitor's steady beeping provided a rhythmic backdrop as I watched Helen Chambers rest peacefully in her bed, having just finished the carefully prepared meal I'd brought her. She was a gem of a woman—a brilliant spirit imprisoned within a body that had betrayed her. Where there should have been the tiny, vibrant beauty she was meant to be, paralysis had weighted her down with unmoving mass. As her vital organs shut down one by one, the terminal nature of her condition had become undeniably apparent.

"Marcus, thank you for another wonderful meal!" Helen's voice carried genuine warmth despite her weakness. "The tastes that you bring together through your creativity in the kitchen are amazing. Even more so with all of my dietary restrictions. Thanks, sweetie."

The smile that spread across Helen's face was worth more than any paycheck. It was moments like these that reminded me why I'd chosen hospice care, despite how my tender heart sometimes made the work feel impossible.

"You are welcome, Helen. I'm glad that you enjoyed it. I certainly enjoyed creating your meal for you."

"You certainly take good care of me. I admire all your creativity in the way that you do your work. It's clear to me that it's a work of love for you."

Her words warmed something deep inside me—a recognition that felt both comforting and dangerous. "Is there anything that I can get for you?"

"No dear, I'm fine for now."

"Then I will get your tray and do some cleaning up."

"I'll take a nap. Have fun, Marcus."

I did have fun cleaning, though it also gave me precious time to think. In the quiet moments between tasks, I allowed myself to hope—perhaps foolishly—that I could somehow save Helen. I wished I could turn the tide of her illness through sheer attentiveness. My devotion to her comfort kept her free from pain, and I felt that if I could make things as physically comfortable as possible while promoting a pleasant environment, I could make her quality of life the best it could be.

Somehow, becoming Helen's friend and companion had come naturally to me in ways that surprised even myself. There was an ease in our relationship that transcended the typical caregiver-patient dynamic, as if we'd known each other far longer than the few months I'd been caring for her.

After finishing the housework, I went quietly into Helen's room to check on her well-being. Though I'd been monitoring her vital signs from the kitchen, it put my mind at ease to look in on her directly. As I entered, she stirred to life, her eyes opening with surprising clarity.

"Marcus, do you believe in reincarnation?"

The question caught me off guard, though Helen often surprised me with her philosophical inquiries. "I do believe, Helen. I hope that I have learned from my life this time so that I will have become a better person."

"How do you believe it works when one life passes to another?"

I settled into the chair beside her bed, drawn into the conversation despite the weight of the topic. "We all hear stories of people moving away from this life, passing into an overwhelming white light. I feel that within that white light, a great energy surrounds us, and for a moment all the lives that we have lived are revealed. In that clarity of being known in all truth, the sum of what we have become through our lives is made known. Fate decides somehow, based on how well and what we have learned in our lives, as well as the lessons that are yet to be learned. Fate decides the kind of life that would teach that lesson and molds us to be born into that new life with a clean slate."

Helen's eyes sparkled with interest. "What if when you are joined with the omniscience, in that moment of clarity, you determine how the creative energy is used to bring new life?"

"Perhaps the difference between letting it happen and taking an active role in it signals that some lessons have been learned." I paused, considering her words more deeply. "Hmm, can a person believe in both reincarnation and ghosts?"

"Well, I do. I feel that there can be a time spent interacting with the living before that rendezvous with the white light. And I also believe that in the process of passing into the other dimension, beings of pure energy and spirit can act as mentors for a time before they complete their journey beyond."

"You have an interesting take on this, Marcus. It's clear that you've given this some thought."

I had given it thought—more than I cared to admit. "I believe that the time at the end of our life is important. I feel fortunate to show care and compassion to ease the transition. How we face death is at least as important as how we face life. That is how I manage to cope with all the emotions."

Helen's eyebrow lifted in what I recognized as acknowledgment of my reference to Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. She smiled and closed her eyes, her vitals confirming that she had slipped back into sleep.

It was a wonder that I was working in hospice care, tender-hearted as I was. However, I had shown that I possessed quiet strength and could keep my head in a crisis. I didn't let what might be paralyze me, nor would I be consumed by what had happened. I didn't carry the emotion from one case to another, thanks to the mandatory day off between cases that allowed me to empty myself of tears so I could give my best to my next charge.

The sound of the front door opening interrupted my thoughts. Michelle Chambers Johnson, Helen's younger sister, had arrived home from work. She typically worked long hours and was deeply dedicated to her career, but today was different—she was home in the afternoon.

What surprised me most was that she wore her Celtic Triquetra knot necklace openly, the intricate knotwork catching the light as she moved. Some associated the symbol with Wicca, but for me, it represented something beautiful—the three lives of women as maiden, mother, and matron. Helen had requested that I place the necklace's twin around her neck after I'd done her makeup that morning.

"Marcus, would you like to sit with me in the living room for a moment and talk?"

"Of course, Michelle. Was there anything in particular that you wanted to talk about?"

She smoothed her skirt underneath her as she sat down in a chair, and I took the one opposite from her. There was something different in her demeanor—a purposefulness that made me slightly nervous.

"I'd like to talk about you. You have been so wonderful both to Helen and me. We've both noticed something about you that is not consistent with your character in that you are hiding something. I know you to be honest in everything else, so it puzzles me and my sister. We both love you and we want to help if we can. I know this is personal, but in order to help, I must ask—what are you hiding, Marcus?"

My heart began to race. "Michelle, I don't know what you are talking about! I guess everyone in my work has a little professional detachment. Perhaps that is what you both are perceiving."

But Michelle's gaze didn't waver. "Who are you really, deep down inside?"

She knows! The thought hit me like a lightning bolt. You see, deep down inside, I knew that I was female. I had always known, but I feared what I might lose if I became the victim of stigma associated with people who changed their gender expression from what society felt I was supposed to have. I had paused too long thinking, and now I could not give an answer that would deflect her from questioning me.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken truth. Helen's gentle breathing from the next room seemed to encourage me, as if her presence was giving me strength. The Celtic Triquetra around Michelle's neck caught the afternoon light, and I thought of its twin around Helen's neck—symbols of connection, of sisterhood, of acceptance.

Finally, I found the courage to tell the truth.

"I'm female."

The words hung in the air between us, and I felt as if I'd just stepped off a cliff into unknown territory. There was no taking them back now.