July 19th, 2050
I was born in 1979 initially, and by the time of my first passing I was 80 years of age, a long enough life for many people since the average age throughout the world tends to fluctuate from time to time. It was 2055 when I first met my end, and it was likely one of the most peaceful I’ve seen in my life, but it was also one of the strangest.
I recall that day as though it happened just a short time ago, but I’ve been through so many lifetimes by now that one might think I’d forget it and just move on. Every life I’ve been through however I remember with perfect clarity. There have been times in life that I can recall were particularly difficult, and other times that I thought the end of the world was nigh.
This world is going to end one day, or at least humanity will end, which is hardly a surprise. But until that day it seems that I’m bound to relive the same years over and over, with one year added for each time I’m to be born again. That sounds odd doesn’t it? How could a person be born so many different times, and remember every moment? How could they never reveal this to the people around them? Well let me tell you, the first few times people thought I was crazy, because as a child, once I learned to speak again, I would recall things that I apparently had no business knowing.
I wish I could say that I did something that would inspire karma to keep bringing me back, but I have yet to think of anything that bad that might justify such a thing. In fact, I would love to lay the blame for this at the feet of the person that spoke to me on my final day, but I still won’t. She was mysterious, she was beautiful, and she was pleasant enough, but she was also a bit scary, and now that I think about it, she didn’t do me a lot of favors.
So, on to the story.
(to be continued)