Saturday, 27 January 2018

A Step Too Far - Chapter 13

Annie sat breathing heavily, dangling her feet in the hot spa, watching the dried blood, indifferently wondering if it will wash off easily, or need some scrubbing.  How did she even get blood on her legs?  Splash damage must have been more intense than she noticed at the time.

Stripping to her underwear, she pulled out her wallet again before settling into the spa to clean up.  It took some time to find a suitable hot-tub, kept warm in a back yard, despite the residents being off somewhere.  Ever so courteous of them to let her bloody up their waters.  A hot spa was clearly the only way to celebrate a victory in battle, it’s a shame they weren’t around in the good old days - a good hot spring certainly did the trick though.

A few hundred dollars in cash - not bad for a kid, drug money?  A learner’s permit, the photo was pretty, but she saw herself in the mirror at the bar, it clearly didn’t do her justice.  Platinum credit card, daughter of rich parents?  Debit card, library card?  They still have those?  Hmph.  Gym membership, of course, and some blank card, probably opens the gate of her parent’s mansion.  Very un-elucidating… She put it aside and sunk under the bubbling water to try and get the blood out of her - come to think of it remarkably silky - hair.

I still ask people sometimes, what their earliest memory is.  A Christmas tree on a snowy day; their first day in school; their parents’ faces? Some it seems can barely remember even being a child.  None remember being born, yet not one person ever questions that they were born, everyone is born at some point, right?

I remember when I was born - far too long ago - but it isn’t my earliest memory.  My earliest memory isn’t of being born, but of dying. Then blackness, perhaps a second, perhaps a thousand years, then birth. And before that,  nothing.  I’ve never known blackness since then, not even a moment’s nap.  The body sleeps, I do not.  I’ve been born many times since then.  I’ve lost more bodies than I can easily count.

So if my earliest memory is my own death, surely I must have been alive before then?  Was that the first life I was born into?  Was I even born, or did I just come to be at that very moment, seeing through the eyes of someone who was never me?  Whoever that man was, there were two things I knew about him.  He was hated by those who killed him more than I’d seen anyone be hated in all my time since, and I hated him.  I don’t even know who he was, but God I hate him with every fiber of my being.

Emerging from under the water, Annie took a deep breath and casually inspected her newly clean hair.  It was nice being beautiful.  I should buy a pretty dress.

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