They say reincarnation is easy. I mean, you get to keep your memories, and know what happens in the future. But what they don't tell you is how hard it is to live in a body you're not used to.
As a baby, I couldn't talk and could barely crawl without getting unbelievably tired. Even simple tasks like lifting my arms or head took a lot of effort.
I could've forced myself to grow and develop faster than the typical baby, but I didn't. Instead, I focused on my memory.
I still have the memories of my past life, but it's like they're in a part of my brain I haven't unlocked yet. I know things—my old family and friends, where I used to live—but recalling them takes effort. More than I would've expected.
If there's one thing I did wish to remember though, it's why I was reborn. Into my own past, no less.
Aren't I supposed to go into some cool fantasy world with magic or something?
Anyways, I think it has something to do with my infantile body.
My thoughts feel slower. Not gone, just delayed. Like everything has to pass through something before I can understand it.
Even recognition takes a lot of focus. Sometimes I forget the difference between my mother and my father.
Then there are my senses.
They get overloaded so easily!
When my parents fight, it feels like my eardrums are going to burst. When they try to take pictures of me, they use the flashlight feature on their phone.
It's so bright!
I was pretty much getting flash-banged for a picture...
...Anyway, I'm getting off track.
Back to the issue of my memory.
Since recalling things was so difficult, I did what anyone in my situation would do.
Read.
I had to wait until I was about two to three years old, as that's when the memory starts to really develop and do what it's supposed to. During the times when my parents are busy, or aren't looking at me, I would take a book off our shelf and use it to train my memory.
It turns out there were a lot of words I'd forgotten during those early years. At first, reading was slow. I understood what I was looking at, but not fast enough to keep up with it. Most words I would remember if I thought about them long enough, but some I totally forgot, and had to look up in the dictionary. It was frustrating, knowing I should understand everything—especially having lived a full life beforehand—but I had to relearn things piece by piece. But the more I read, the better my recognition became, and my memory improved.
It took time. Longer than expected.
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Now, it's the present. I'm five years old, and reading feels natural again. Words come to me without hesitation, and I no longer have to stop and think just to understand things. My memory improved as well. Not perfect, but close enough to function like a normal adult.
There was one thing I still can't remember though.
Why was I reborn?
What happened before my rebirth?
Who ■■■■■■ my ■■■■■■■?
I think during my development, my parents noticed something off about me. Not in a bad way, just... different.
When my older sister, Melanie, turned five, they enrolled her in kindergarten.
But with me, they skipped it entirely. I went straight to first grade.
Today was the first day of school.
Since I have to act like a 5 year old, I stayed close to Melanie until she showed me to my classroom. She's in third grade, which is on the opposite side of the school, so we wouldn't be seeing each other much during the day.
My classroom was set up with the desks lined up on the walls. Instead of sitting in them, the teacher, Ms. Sharpe, told us to sit on the floor in a big circle.
After the bell rang, Ms. Sharpe introduced herself. We did a simple icebreaker, going around the room saying our names and our favorite foods. I kept it simple.
"I'm ■■■■■■, but my family calls me ■■■■■, and I like to eat mac and cheese."
That was enough.
After introductions were over, we were given fifteen minutes of free-time to explore the classroom and make friends.
I used most of that time to observe. I counted thirteen boys and seventeen girls in the classroom. Most of them didn't think much before speaking. Some talked too much, while others barely at all.
It didn't take long to decide who I wanted to approach.
George and Leo.
George is loud, energetic, and athletic. The kind who moves before he thinks.
Leo is more of the opposite. Quiet and reserved. He stays close to George, but doesn't speak unless spoken to.
He's also more aware of his surroundings. He noticed me watching them and told George.
"Hey, he's been staring at us."
George turned to me.
"Hey! What's your problem?"
"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to stare, I was just... I didn't know how to talk to you guys."
"So?" George said. "Why would you want to talk to us?"
"I... wanted to be friends with you guys..."
"Oh..."
After that, George pulled Leo to the side and tried to whisper something to him, but I heard the whole thing.
"What should we do?"
"It doesn't look like he has friends... I think we should!"
They turned back to me, Leo hesitant.
George finally shrugs and says, "Okay. What's your name?"
"■■■■■."
Right as I told them my name, Ms. Sharpe told us it was time to go to lunch.
I went to lunch with George and Leo. On the way, we stopped by another classroom. George and Leo wouldn't tell me why, but I didn't push for an answer. After a few minutes, a girl our age came out and started talking to them like they've been close for a long time.
"■■■■■, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is ■■■■■."
"Melanie? That's the same name as my sister!"
"..."
She was shy, really shy.
Before we were introduced to each other, she spoke normally. But once she had to talk to me, she didn't say anything at all. It didn't seem like she didn't want to talk. It felt more like she didn't know how.
We all got lunch, Melanie brought hers from home, so she chose where we sat. She chose a spot in the far back corner with the least amount of students surrounding us.
So she avoids people.
That must be it. She's not good with people, so my addition to the group must have shocked her.
I got to the table last. George and Leo sat next to each other, which meant I had to sit next to Melanie. She tensed slightly when I went to sit down, but didn't say anything.
George started talking right away.
"Hey ■■■■■, do you play sports?"
"No, I mostly read at home."
I noticed Melanie react to that. Just slightly.
"No way! That's so boring! You and Mel are kind of alike though—she reads too."
So they call her Mel.
"Really? What kinds of books do you like to read, Mel?"
"..."
Leo finally spoke up, apologizing for Mel's shyness. I said I didn't mind it while George continued the conversation.
"You read that one book right? What's it called... Harry Pooper?"
He grinned like he thought it was the funniest thing ever.
"Harry Potter!" She snapped.
After that, she wouldn't stop talking about the story. She then went on a tangent about the characters, story—everything—and criticizing George for calling it that. It was like she'd forgotten I was there.
I didn't interrupt the conversation.
There wasn't a reason to.
When the bell rang, we went back to our respective classes and started actual schoolwork.
After school, I met up with Melanie. Our house is only a fifteen-minute walk away, so we walked home together.
She asked me the usual questions:
"How was school? Did you make friends? Was the work hard?"
I answered all of them truthfully.
I don't really see her as an older sister now, even though this is my second life with her. In my past life, I was much older than she is now. I know that much.
I just don't know how much older.
I can't even remember my own age...
When we got home, only Mom was there. Dad was probably at work right now.
She asked me the same questions Melanie did, and I gave her the same answers.
After talking with them for a while, I went back to my room.
And started writing this.
The story of my new life.
So...
Here I am.