1,582A normal person wouldn't have memories of her past life. Every life given should be a new one. But why was I reborn in a world that shouldn't exist?
Are these memories, visions or madness?
Prologue:
'I've never really given much thought to how I would die.'
Yes, I completely plagiarised my first line from Twilight.
But it's true. I guess even though I knew from the start that everyone dies, my optimism led me to believe that I will live until I'm 100, rich and surrounded by my loved ones. This is why I ignored those donor forms that seemed to pop out in front of me so many times – okay – ALL the time.
For example, every time I picked out a cute diary, the line, in the event of my death, I wish to donate my eyes, heart, liver, kidneys… blah blah blah, was just the first freaking line my eyes will focus on.
And that time when I had to change my doctors, the surgery sent me an application form AND another letter specifically asking, if I wanted to donate my eyes, heart, liver, kidneys, again, in the event of my death.
And also those inconspicuous posters that no one seemed to notice except me.
To be fair, maybe I should've taken note of the signals.
My death was quick though.
Not painless, but at least I wasn't tortured to death or had multiple needles stuck into me until my final breath.
I didn't have to go through the pain of slowly disintegrating and watching my family and friends suffer with me. I didn't have to die while knowing I'm emptying my parents' meagre savings and pushing them further into debt.
Yes. In a way, I was happy that I died in a car crash.
WAIT – Didn't I also receive calls from stupid people asking me if I was involved in a car crash that wasn't my fault before I died exactly from that?
Maybe I was a psychic and I didn't even know it?
Well, after that awful shocking pain of getting hit on your side by a car and the feeling of your head getting smashed, blood and brain matter exploding out of your head, I felt nothing for a long time.
Hell, I may have even been a fish of some kind.
But in that short or long period of time, I mostly just let myself float away. I cried most of the time. But in that void, I was restricted to move. It occurred to me that maybe I was being tortured after my death. After all, I wasn't the best child there was.
No. I was an angsty, lazy teenager with insecurity and family , I kinda knew I was a little insecure but I wasn't that aware of how insecure I was.
In that tiny black space, I recited to myself all the bad things I've done – judging others to make myself better, criticising other people, being jealous of how pretty other girls are, and being jealous when my friends are doing better than me in school - I was not a very nice girl.
Green was my colour and the shell I kept around to myself.
Then, one day, I started hearing things. It grew louder and more pronounced as time passed. But since it was the first thing for a very long time of isolation that I heard, I caught on to it and desperately searched for it. Every time I heard it, I felt comforted. Thus, came a point that it was all I waited for. That soft tilting melody – a woman's voice.
Sometimes, the melody goes up and down as if she was singing. Sometimes, it fluctuates when she is saying something I don't understand. Sometimes, it wasn't her. The voice sounded deeper but still comforting.
Of course, my comfort bubble had to burst eventually.
After a long time of everlasting darkness, I was suddenly assaulted by a cacophony of sounds, an array of scents and from my closed eyelids (I cannot open them), there was light.
I felt giant hands holding me, passing me from one pair of giant hands to another.
I screamed and relished at the feeling it brought to my throat.
I kicked and punched through the empty air just because I could.
Because after a long, long time, I felt things I never thought I could anymore. Things I took for granted.
But not anymore.
Today, I felt, I heard, I smelled, I tasted, I saw light.
Today, I am alive.
Author's note 2024: I decided to tidy this up a little. Re-reading it is embarrassing but I did not want to change too much as this project was very much an early project of mine and I like to look back to see how far I've come. If you want a perfect masterpiece, this is not the right place. Also, english is not my first language so this was also me training myself into fluency.