They say reincarnation is easy. I mean, you get to keep your memories, and know what happens in the future. But what they don't tell you, is how hard it is to live in a body you're not used to. I've spent these past eight years learning how to be a child again. Re-learning how to walk and talk was far harder than I would have expected.
Nevertheless, I've done it, I made it to the ripe age of eight. It wasn't easy, aside from my body, I had to make myself seem unintelligent, so I wouldn't raise suspicion with my parents. Speaking of them, I might as well tell you all about myself!
My name is ■■■■■■ ■■■■■■. I live in a nice rural town in Wyoming. I have two loving parents, or so it would seem. To the typical eight year old kid, these parents would probably look perfect, but having the knowledge of my previous life, I'm noticing the smaller things. The way they look at each other like they we're never really in love to begin with, the way they force me and Melanie onto each other like we're a couple of hassles, and the way they—
I don't really have a word for it. It's just something children aren't supposed to notice.
Oh yeah, Melanie is my older sister, she's eleven years old and will be starting middle school soon. Since she's a bit older, I thought she may have been able to notice mom and dad's behavior, but she seems oblivious to it.
I will also have a little brother in the future, but now that I'm thinking about it... I don't remember when he's supposed to be born.
But that's not something I need to worry about yet.
For now, things are simple. Most days, I hang out with my friends. Since I'm trying to be the best version of myself I can, I started with making friends.
Right now there are only three of us—me, George, and Leo.
There's an abandoned factory not too far from my house where we usually gather. It's the kind of place we consider a "secret hideout," but pretty much everyone knows that's where we go. It's a bit of a hassle going to some place where nothing really happens, but I go because that's what I'm supposed to do.
The factory is small. It used to be a place that built and shipped reinforced concrete, but since it's abandonment, all the machines have been removed. What's left is just a big empty space and an office. We've been using it for a year or so, and have built a basketball court and brought lots of toys and games to play when we're bored.
I've been waiting at the factory, reading comics for about an hour, before I hear Leo and George having another one of their unnecessary arguments as they walk in. This time it's over who gets to choose what game we play next.
"...should play basketball, we haven't done that in a long time!"
"We just played it the other day! Come on, let's play tag."
"No! basketball!"
"Tag!"
They argue over nothing. They don't even listen to each other's reasons. I doubt they even care what we play.
They just don't want to lose. It's an easy fix.
"We can just do both."
They stopped the second I said it.
"...Both?"
"Yeah, we play a version of basketball where, if you don't have the ball, you are the tagger. If you get tagged, you must hand the ball over to the opponent."
They didn't even question it. It wasn't hard to fix.
It never is.
I decided to sit out and watch them play this new game. George is more athletic than Leo, but Leo is more analytical. While George tries to stop Leo by brute force, chasing him around the makeshift court we made, Leo focuses on positioning, making it difficult to score without getting tagged. It worked, until George realized there was no rule against tagging immediately after handing the ball over, and gains a substantial lead before Leo gets frustrated.
"Could you quit that? It's unfair!"
"So what, it's not in the rules. And you could do it to me anytime."
"But it feels like cheating."
"But it's not."
At this point, Leo is really angry, while George has a smug look on his face for having such a brilliant idea.
Another argument that could be solved with just a few words.
"Okay guys, Let's add a rule," I said. "After each tag or goal, you both start on opposite sides of the court."
They paused, thought for a second, and said in unison:
"...Fine."
And problem solved.
The game went on without any problems, until curfew. On the walk home, Leo asked me something I wasn't expecting:
"Hey ■■■■■■, how are you always so calm?"