It starts on the 14th of July, 2000. A boy named Adam Knershfield is born in Vancouver, Canada. He lived a pretty normal life, going to school, hanging out with friends, getting in trouble. During high school, he would secretly get drunk at parties, and other vices. After high school, he did not go to college but instead worked part time jobs to support himself and some of his family. Over the “Lockdown” he stayed at home, played games, and worked if needed. At around 30, he died of Lung cancer due to excessive smoking.
As I finish writing, I say, “Wow, his life sucked.” My name is Philip Sanders. I’m 5 Years old. And for some reason, I woke up with this guy’s memories. It is very broken and unclear, but they are there. I won’t lie, I’m very worried, ‘Am I Philip, or am I Adam?’ And after some thought, I realize, I should not be able to think like this. Granted, 5 year olds are smart, but they tend to not worry about such things. This puts me into a panic. ‘What if I am Adam? Wouldn’t this mean I’ll repeat that life? I don’t wanna live like that,’ “I don’t wanna die like that!” I shout. I hear someone walking up the stairs. The door to my room opens and I quickly flip the diary to another page. “Are you OK pumpkin?” My mom says. “I thought I heard you yell.” Realizing that I said it out loud, I quickly lie, “I’m okay mom, just dropped my pencil.” Thankfully, I speak like I usually do, out of reflex. “Then, Dinner is almost done, and Dad will be home soon, so finish up your writing.” “Yes Mom.” “Good.” She says as she smiles and leaves. I let out a sigh of relief. ‘It seems I must be more careful… At least, I realize, that while I have Adam’s memories and intelligence, It seems, I still have Philip’s muscle memory. And so, I’ve decided. I whisper, “I will live this life well, using the knowledge and experience I have.” I don’t know why or how this happened, and I wont question it. If for some reason, I have an opportunity, I will look into it, but for now, I will live this life to the fullest!
It’s been 45 years. Lots has happened. I’ve had friends, enemies, love, sadness, ups and downs. This world was not so different from my previous one, but it was different enough that it was easy to figure out it was not the Earth I knew. I studied electrical engineering, and got a P.H.D. I joined a computer hardware company, and helped design and build computer hardware. I had a few relationships, but none of them never really worked out. My parents died 7 years ago, peacefully. And then while working on a supercomputer design commissioned by the military, a power surge happened while I was touching open wires. That hurt. A lot.
“Fuck.” I say as I go through my memories. My name is Victor, with no last name because only important people or nobles have those. I’m an Orphan living in Orlan, the capital of The Adrestea Kingdom. I have no idea how old I am, maybe 7, maybe 10? And this is my 3rd reincarnation? (What, I loved to read those kind of books and comics as Philip. Don’t you? I mean you’re doing right now. {The author coughs and erases the last sentence. [It’s not time to break the 4th wall… yet.]}) What is happening? Why do I have these memories? Who am I? CLANG! I swiftly look towards the source of the sound. “Just a cat…” My stomach gurgles. “Let’s get food, and think about this later.
Not an amazing opening. Hopefully it gets better.
Depends, is this going to be repeat in the same world over and over? Or is it a different world every time? If it's the same world, consider slowly turning it into science-fantasy.
If it's a different world every time, do whatever you feel like.
Mostly gonna be different worlds, but returning to some is a fun idea… might do that.
Looking forward to the posibilities, I wish you a long and prosper inspiration. And thanks for writing
Thank you
Yay, a new serial reincarnation story!