They gathered around her bed, quiet and mourning. One of them stood by her stroking her white hair.
"Oh Lily," she said almost whispering, "Why? Why go through this?"
Feebly, the old woman looked up at the youthful face and smiled, "You know why, Mother."
"Lily, this nonsense has gone on long enough!"
"Eighty-seven years, two months, and sixteen days."
"Lily, my dear Lily," her mother pleaded, "you can be healed, restored to perfect health, and live!"
"I know," Lily coughed.
"Just say the word!"
"No."
They waited around Lily's bed. From her great-grandparents to her great-grand children, they stood vigil over their beloved, but stubborn Lily, who thought that her 927 year life was long enough. In perfect health, 87 years ago she withdrew from the system that would keep her healthy indefinitely and began to live a mortal life to this day. Her last.
They waited around her bed, and quietly grieved.
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