Beginnings in Death

Reincarnation was a belief that stayed strong in the hearts of many people in my neighbourhood, who often seemed to account several of their past lives in great detail, but having no such memories myself, I found the idea a little difficult to believe. When I was a child, my parents told me it was most likely because this was my first life as a human; that was even more perplexing since I was one of twins. However, my sister, Lily, claimed to retain memories from her previous life. Perhaps there was some truth to it.

The townspeople believed that there was one law governing the process: to be reincarnated, at least the last living person who was closest to you must let go of their grief before they die. This law brought upon me nothing but despair on Lily’s and my 30th birthday—Lily passed away in a car accident on her way to our parents’ house. It bored a hole through our entire family. We wished we could move on for Lily’s sake, so that she would have the chance for a better life in the future, but the tragedy gripped us tight every single day that passed by.

My parents grew apart and eventually got divorced. That grief remained with them until they, too, eventually passed, leaving me all alone. I still had a few living relatives, but we weren’t close, and only met once a year or two during the holidays. But there was something strange about me ever since Lily passed away. I never paid much attention to those thoughts and often pushed them into a corner, but it only grew more evident as decades passed by—I wasn’t aging.

One of my nieces, Bella, said that I was most likely immortal. This was not one of the beliefs held by the people in my town. Many began to wonder whether there was something wrong with me, and I often received strange looks from old friends and former colleagues. I grew more and more reclusive as the years passed, meeting family even less frequently than before. Bella would still swing by whenever she had free time. It was not long before she began to look older than me, too. I didn’t know what to do. I wished I could grow old and pass on like everyone else. Why was I cursed to watch everyone I care about leave this world while I remained here like a prisoner?

Bella passed away before my 100th birthday. She was the last of my relatives who remained in contact with me. I didn’t bother reaching out to anyone else as they all never put in any effort to do the same. Perhaps it was for the best. One day, I decided to take a chance and see if I was truly immortal. I woke up in a hospital bed two weeks later to several doctors and nurses at my side. I had been found by one of Bella’s children, who had come to my house to talk about her will.

I was discharged from the hospital three days later, and upon arriving home, I noticed something strange: I looked older. I didn’t look over a century old, but I had somehow gained more wrinkles and grey hairs. I was finally middle-aged, but how? Had my near-death experience resumed the aging process? That same night, as I slept, I had a dream that felt more like a memory—but one that I was unsure I ever had. Mom and Dad were at the dining table. Both of them were the ages they were when they died. Lily was there as well; she looked no older than she was before she passed away.

Lily walked towards me and took my hand. She was in tears. “I’m sorry, Lena… It’s all my fault.”

“Your fault? What do you mean?”

“I doubt you’ll remember this when you wake up, but I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go in death. I’m sorry I clung to our memories and kept you there for so long.” Lily wrapped her arms around me. “Please forgive me.”

I felt tears rise to my eyes. “It’s okay, Lily…” I hugged her back. Mom and Dad joined us soon after.

I woke up wiping my eyes. This time, I remembered our reunion. From that point on, I felt my body grow weaker as the years passed by. It was not long before the strange looks I often received started to disappear, but things never truly returned to normal for me. Death was the new beginning I was looking forward to. Reincarnation didn’t matter to me; I just wanted to spend what little time I had left peacefully until I could be reunited with my family one last time. Fifty years passed, and I finally received my wish.