Soul Rebirthers

         I woke up to the sun breaking its way through the dirty bedroom windows.  I sighed and recalled how many times I had woken up in a new house or apartment in a new body.

         “Rebirth number forty-three,” I whispered to myself.  “Let’s see who I am this time.”

         Last night I was a man of twenty-five, I was shaggy and unkempt; an average drug addict.  I had purposely overdosed that very night, I was sick of the life that had been chosen for me.  I woke up to find myself in a cleaner cut host.  I now had smooth chocolate-brown hair and I had eyes the color of the snow with a thin layer of icy blue.  I was fit, medium sized, and supposedly around the age of twenty-five according to the age of death of my former life.

         The room around me was foreign.  A small guest bed sat in the corner of the room, an oak dresser with flower-like designs engraved in its edges sat beside it.  There wasn’t a clock in the room, so I couldn’t tell how long my soul had been searching for another host.  The walls were a pale yellow.  The entire room settled around the cozy colors of yellow, light blue, and khaki.

         I glanced in the mirror and chuckled lightly.  “…Twenty-five on the outside 4,275 on the inside.”  I found it somewhat amusing.

         I could hear fighting downstairs.  A young woman and an older male were exchanging threatening words.  I listened closely.

         “Ha-ha!  You’re just a worthless sac of meat and bone,” said the man in a hoarse, shaky voice.  He was intoxicated.

         “Get off of me,” yelled the woman desperately in disgust.

         I rushed down the steps and quietly approached the man.  He lifted a fist and was about to punch the woman.  I grabbed hold of his arm.  In surprise, he turned around and swung a fist at me as though it was a natural instinct to do so.  I blocked the punch and we stepped back from each other.  We exchanged glares.

         “Those who pick fights without knowing their opponent’s strength are fools,” I said.

         The man stumbled slightly.  He was older than twenty-five.  His rough looking face gave him a bully-like appearance…nothing I couldn’t handle.

         “You know you can’t fight me, boy!” He reached slowly for the lamp behind him hoping I wouldn’t notice.

         “Think what you want,” I said holding a tighter grip on his shoulder, “But is thinking always the truth, and is truth always knowledge?”  I laughed a little.  “Your stupidity and reason matches your lack of self control.”

         He looked at me bitterly and his face turned hot red.  He lifted the lamp and swung it towards me.  I dodged the blow. Grabbed the lamp’s handle, and rushed behind him to put the lamp around his neck in a chokehold.

         “Are you mad,” the man gasped.  It sounded as though he was implying that I was.

         I smiled.  “No, I am realistic.”  I kicked him in the back with my knee and watched him fall unconsciously to the floor.

         The young lady was in the corner shaking with a pillow held in her hands for comfort.  She got up and placed the pillow back onto the couch, she was still staring in my eyes with wonder.

         “Sean,” she started then hesitated.  She walked up to me and reached for my hand.

         I pulled away and turned around, thinking of a way to explain what exactly was going on, but something was telling me to wait.  “I don’t know how to explain it right now,” I said quietly.

         She looked at me with sparkles in her eyes, “You know you can tell me anything.”

         “It’s more complicated than words can explain.”

         She nodded and hugged me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

         It had been two years since the morning of my rebirth.  I had learned a lot of the former life of Sean Braxton Curtis.  He was a dedicated painter, and occasional writer.  He was in love with the woman I had helped that morning.  I was slowly getting attached to the girl.  Her name was Ivy Renee Berks.  Something about her was inviting.  Her brown hair reminded me of a horse’s long mane; her beauty of its freedom and spirit.  This was the first time I had ever felt such a deep connection.

         We met at the Star Bucks downtown that morning.  I was going to tell her the truth.  I knew that once I truly fell in love that I would die normally, and the curse would be broken forever.

         “Good-morning, Sean,” she said kissing me lightly on the cheek.

         I nodded and asked her to sit down at the booth.

         She smiled at me, “What is it?”

         I didn’t quite know where to begin or how to bring this up, so I just started, “Do you remember what happened exactly two years ago?”

         She nodded, “Yes, why?”

         “I should let you know that the Sean you knew that morning was already gone.”

         “But you’re right in from of me,” she looked at me blankly.

         “Ivy, my real name is Aaron Lush.  I am what history calls a ‘soul rebirther’,” I said trying to explain clearly.  “When I die, my soul ventures out until I can find another host.  It pushes out another’s soul and settles in its body.”  She stared at me. I knew she would think I was crazy.  “I am reborn at the same age as when I was when I died.  I am only reborn into a baby when I die of old age.”

         “How many times have you been reborn?” she asked.

         “…Forty-three,” I replied.  “You think I am crazy.”  I looked down at the table in disappointment.

         “No, I have heard of this.  I believe in it, as well.”

         My face lit up happily.  “Then may I ask you a question?”

         She nodded for me to continue.

         “Will you marry me, and help me break this curse forever?”  I asked.  This question I had waited for many life times to say.  I was relieved.

         After that day, I had no more worries.  I knew that once I died, my soul would finally rest.