Life sucked.
And then it didn’t.
I had everything I could ever want after meeting the love of my life. But it was fleeting. It all came to an end out of nowhere. An innocent walk together to the movies interrupted by the sound of screeching tires and… now I’m here.
I’ve been in the form of a baby for three months now, and it has only just now come to my attention that I don’t have the same… parts that I remember. At first I thought I was just a small, growing young baby boy, but then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The deity that gave us this second chance must have had a wicked sense of humor. It was supposedly their fault that the truck was there at that particular time, and our deaths weren’t meant to go down this way. But they did give us a second chance and a wish each, so I can’t complain too much.
My wife was so kind as to wish for us to be reborn near each other, so that we may find each other quickly again in this new world. However, I’m not sure that she’ll feel too great about the changes to my body.
When I learned that we’d be reincarnated in a world of magic… I wished for the power to protect us. I couldn’t protect us from that truck, but I should be able to protect us from anything that comes our way in this new world. She saved me from a life of misery; the least I can do is save her from having to have her life cut short again.
- - - - -
Based on the days and the nights, it has been 7 months now. The seasons seem the same as I remember them, which means winter should be coming soon. It is certainly getting colder. I’m not sure if I’ll see the ground covered in snow or not, but I’m sure that won’t be a problem for my old man. I can’t quite understand the language enough to talk yet, but I’ve learned that my father is capable of fire magic. With that, they should have no trouble traveling to town on snowy days. I’m not quite sure what kind of magic my mother has, but she seems to control shadows in some way. When she’s telling me bedtime stories, she often shows shadows on the wall, which is helping me learn about this world a little quicker.
I have a twin sister, but she’s really quiet. I often give our parents a hard time because I’m picky. I’ve grown particularly fond of this star shaped fruit that they sometimes buy from the market. The way they cook it, it comes out so tender and sweet. I love it. I know it can’t be too expensive, because I saw dad bringing in what must have been a 20 lb bag of them once they realized I had taken a liking to them. My sister, unlike me, will just eat anything she is fed.
- - - - -
10 months in, I am so frustrated with this language. It feels like I’m making no headway with it. I can vocalize myself now. My vocal cords have developed enough for that, but I don’t think I’ve made any progress on understanding the past few months. Meanwhile, my sister has seemingly started talking in full sentences, and has been walking for a couple of months now.
She’s always so proud when mom and dad praise her, which is cute, but I envy her. I have all the memories of my past life, and yet I still can’t stand. It is frustrating, to say the least. I was told I’d be granted my wish, and that I’d be capable of becoming more powerful than anyone else on this planet. Yet, here I am, unable to reach the pin for the latch for the magical barrier that keeps me from exiting this room when mom and dad are gone.
I guess I might as well start trying to read some of the books they keep in here. My mother often leaves books on the floor next to her favorite chair when she gets up, and I’ve been stockpiling them in my favorite hiding place: under the giant grandfather clock. She never seems to care all that much, and somehow doesn’t suspect me. She just pulls out a new book and starts reading it instead, or moves on to doing something else like trying to entertain my sister or I.
- - - - -
Tomorrow is our birthday. Our parents have been talking about our “big day” coming up, and I know how to count. Seems to be the same cycle as the calendar I’m used to. The winter was short, and, even though there was a small scare when my dad came home late one day during a storm, it was uneventful otherwise.
I have learned how to speak, and can finally walk. My sister and I talk now, and, despite our limited speech, it feels different than speaking to a regular toddler.
“BOO! Good morning, Eve!” My sister has grown this habit of waking me up in the mornings. I know that I don’t need 8 hours, but I definitely would prefer it over the 6 I’ve been getting lately.
“Noo. I just want to sleep!” I said.
“But aren’t you excited for your birthday?”
“I am excited fo- wait. Did you just say.. “Birthday?”” I swear she used the English word for it. That can’t be right.
“Oh, I mean our ‘Yearly’ Day! Birthday is just what I like to call it.”
“Kara,” I said, my voice shaking, “Do you know where the sun sets the brightest?”
She looked nervous all of a sudden, too. It was like she had seen a ghost. This can’t be.. Not as my sister.
Instead of speaking in the language of this world, she replied, in perfect English, “The sun sets the brightest where we are together.”
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