Disclaimer - I don't own the Outsiders
(Written in a different language than English, but one I can't remember the name of)
May 10, 1952
In the past life I lead, I was… older, definitely older. Perhaps in my twenties. I was aiming for a great career in university. I think something related to the sciences. I had a family. I HAD a brother who was smart, funny, weird, and completely crazy at times. He was my closest friend. My parents were strange too. But they weren't a brand of crazy like my brother. They were unfamiliar, but comfortable.
I think… no, I know that I liked my life.
I was beginning to make something of myself.
But something happened. I can't remember what. There was a lot of pain and that's it. I can't remember anything. I CAN'T. I can only remember general facts about my past life. I think my memories are slowly disappearing. Why are they disappearing? I want - I need these memories. Why is this happening to me?
…
If my memories are going to disappear, I'll write them down. I'll carve them in stone if I have to. These memories are MINE. Nothing can take them from me.
Please don't take them from me.
Although my memories are disappearing, I remember enough to know I'm not me. I have my thoughts and personality (at least I hope so) but my body is completely different. And from what I can tell, my skin is darker than before. Which is to say, I'm not Asian anymore. I'm also much younger than my previous age. I think around the age of three to five. (I'm so glad I don't remember my second "birth")
I have a new family. I have a father, mother, and a brother whom I think is a year older than me. They are very different from my past family. My old parents were very scientific and utilitarian, but they cared a lot about their children and expected much for them. My new parents, from what I can see, don't care about me and my brother much. They feed us, clothe us, bathe us, and do enough so that we don't look like homeless children, but they are more into their own lives than ours. They spend excessively on booze, makeup, and clothes when even I can tell that we cannot afford to. They seem to be stuck in their pasts and do not want to move forward. I don't like them. But my new brother is adorable! He is so cute. He has these large black eyes and chubby face so when he pouts, my heart melts!
But not only am I not the same person, I'm not in the same time period as before. There are no color TVs, laptop computers, or cell phones. Technology is old or useless, at least, compared to the ones that I had. I admit, part of the reason I'm writing this is because it is so boring here. Being a child is equivalent to being helpless and BORING. There is nothing to do for a child when the house is barren of books and board games. And when your cute, adorable, brother is sleeping yet again.
It's so quiet.
Scratch that, "mother" and "father" are yelling at each other again.
Thank you for reading