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Chapter One: In the Beginning
In the beginning, there was nothing, and then there was everything. For nine months there was nothing but calm, just his thoughts to keep him company. It was peaceful. It was tranquil. And he wanted to go back. He hated this. He hated the outside.The familiar smell of antiseptic instantly overwhelmed his sense of smell. His infant brain had gone from smelling nothing to smelling everything, and it was terrifying. Next came the sounds, the beeping of a machine nearby infiltrated his ears first. Its pitch akin to nails on a chalkboard, for a second it was all he could hear, and that second was a long one. It was technically his first. Then the sense of touch kicked in, he was covered in something disgustingly slimy. It covered every inch of him, from his head to toe, and he hated that too.Suddenly, he was covered in something. It was soft, comforting even. Nothing like where he had just left but it would do. The soft had gotten rid of the slime that he had been drenched in, which was the first thing he hadn’t hated in this new life.
‘New life?’
The thought bounded through his head like a typhoon. It covered every surface his little brain had. And soon he had become completely and totally crushed.He didn’t remember any of ‘it’. But there was something in the back of his mind that begged for him to find it. To let it out. To remember. But there was no way he could. He was a baby … again. Powerless, helpless, hopeless. And so, he began to grieve. He grieved for a life he might have had, for a self he may have lost. Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.Despite all his grief, all his pain. The world around him continued to move. There was no pause, no slow down, no hesitation when he screamed out, begged for it all to stop. He could no longer hear his own screams, those who delivered him into this new life had to be freaked out by this infant bawling his little eyes out. Though at this moment, he did not care in the slightest.He was in somebody’s hands, not arms. Like he was being transferred like he was merchandise. As he sobbed, he could feel the air brush against his skin as he was moved through the air. He knew he was being moved, but he didn’t much care. There was something wrong, and he couldn’t figure out where it was, or who it was. There was an issue, plaguing his mind. His past life was begging to be put forth, to flood his new brain with old memories.A small issue arose. The crying stopped. His ears slowly returned to their state of hearing. But there was something fundamentally wrong here. There was a sense of … comfort? No. That couldn’t be it, how could he be comfortable at a time like this? His last life had ended, and he didn’t remember any of it, he didn’t remember the people, the sounds they had made, how they had smelled, the way they felt. And yet there was comfort. There was a heartbeat. One familiar to him, but not his.Then finally, his eyes opened. The ocean itself stared down at him. Her pale skin was covered in sweat, her deep red hair was a tangled mess. But her eyes. Her eyes shone a bright blue. And they were transfixed. Totally focused on him. Only one feeling flashed through his mind now. It was love in its purest form, and it was directed at him. Nothing else mattered in this moment. Not the past, and definitely not the future. Her mouth opened and out came a language he had never heard, something completely foreign yet familiar. As he tried to dissect her words, to understand what his mother was trying to say, one string of syllables stuck out over and over.Sota