When it came to dying, I always wished I would do so in a very ordinary way before I was too old. When I say too old, I mean before I even hit 50. Some might think that was young still, but hey, I worked at an assisted living home in the memory care section. I saw some of the things that happened when you lingered in life. I never wanted that.

I didn't want to have to rely on someone else to help me to the bathroom or for eating food. I didn't want to live by someone else's rules in a place that wasn't with my family and wasn't really my home. I never wanted to experience any of that.

Something I didn't think too much about was what happened AFTER you died. I was a Christian. I believed that your soul would go to heaven if you simply believed in the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. So, no, I really didn't think too much about life after death.

I probably should have. I could have done more research on different religions and their beliefs and been more prepared... possibly. I'm not even sure if more knowledge would have been all that helpful. After all, how can one possibly prepare for reincarnation? More specifically, how does one prepare for that as well as keeping one's memories from their previous life? That doesn't happen. It just... doesn't.

I suppose I'm getting a little ahead of myself here. Maybe I should start at the beginning? Hm... or is it the end? That's going to be a little confusing. I have a feeling that is going to be happening a lot. That confused feeling. Anyway, let's just start with the last day of my last life...

It was a normal one. My mother woke me up at 9:30 pm. Yes, I was a 24-year old that still lived with my mother. Laugh all you want but really, being an adult sucked. Bills and work, all of it just sucked. It was hard. So, any kids out there that read this, let this be a warning. Being an adult is not easy. Don't try to grow up so fast. I mean, seriously. Just don't. Enjoy being a kid. Be thankful that you still have people paying your medical bills for you. That people pay your rent for you. That your insurance is taken care of. Once you hit 18, all that shit falls on you.

Anyway, back to my story. So, I woke up at 9:30 pm because I worked the overnight shift. I went to work, got done around 7 am, drove to pick up a coffee, went home and showered, then drove to the local tech college for my morning classes. Another thing you need to worry about when you grow up, paying for school. I'm getting off topic again. Sorry, but hindsight really is a horribly wonderful thing. You never realize how good life WAS until you're thrown into even worse situations. Seriously, adulthood is the worst.

So, I'm going to school for linguistics. I can speak about five different languages fluently. Six if you count English. Reading and writing are a little harder. Especially when it comes to the languages that don't use an alphabet. Which is a good majority of them, in case you were wondering. So, yeah. Reading and writing were taking longer to master, but it was a necessary step to becoming a linguist.

Right, on with the story. Classes were the same as usual. Nothing happened that wasn't supposed to, well, except for a pop quiz. Not really the point though. I finished at around 2 pm then drove home, worked on some papers until about 4, then went to bed so I could do it all over again the next day. See? Nothing unusual. A very ordinary day. Nothing happened when I was sleeping. At least, nothing that I felt. Because obviously, something happened. I mean, I died after all. I guess I got my wish to before I turned 50. I suppose I had just assumed I would at least make it until 40. Be careful what you wish for indeed.

The next thing I knew, after falling asleep, was waking up to darkness. I didn't think too much about it. It was getting close to winter and the sunset earlier. But, my mother hadn't woken me yet, so I just went back to sleep. I could never get enough sleep. Sleep was good.

The next time I had woken up to the darkness, I was a bit more... worried. Why? Because I tried to stretch and found that I couldn't move. At first, I thought sleep paralysis. I discarded that when I really stopped to just listen and feel.

A steady and strong thump could be heard. I wasn't sure what it was, actually, I knew exactly what it was but I was in denial. I didn't want to think what it meant for me. That wasn't the only sound though. There were a lot more all around me. I couldn't describe some of them. I mean, I really couldn't. I'd never heard anything like it before. The other sounds were a bit easier. You know the "ocean" sound you could hear when you held a seashell to your ear? Yeah, that sound was present. Then there was the occasional murmur. Sometimes it sounded more like a hum but I couldn't be too sure.

I'd said before, I was in denial. I know what most of those sound had to mean, but I refused to accept it. Instead, I'd just believe I was in hell. It went along with my religious beliefs better. So, that darkness lasted for quite some time. I had no idea how long... Okay, I knew exactly how long, but again, denial.

Something changed with the darkness. It didn't give me that normal comfort. It had started to feel like it was suffocating me. It squeezed and constricted around me. Funny thing about denial, eventually, a person will have to face the truth. I just hadn't expected that truth to be a blinding light and the feel of giant hands.

So, I did the only logical thing I could think to do when forced to face the truth of now being a newborn child... I cried.