Two days spent searching for a way to word my post that won’t erase my existence. Typing and erasing and retyping. Wishing I had a paper contract that outlined the terms of my agreement. Replaying my conversation with my caseworker to a degree that I worry I’m starting to misremember.
Two days of pretending I’m fine, just stressing over homework, whenever Madison asks me why I’m frowning so intently at my computer screen.
I can’t tell anyone what happened in my first life. But a hypothetical question isn’t a confession. I survived after I posed the scenario to Alex at our first dinner. I guess I’ll risk my entire existence on the theory that if I can pose it to one person, I can pose it to the whole internet. Or, at least, to the Reincarnation subreddit.
Preventing a tragedy from your past life?
I have a hypothetical question that I’m hoping this subreddit can help me with.
Let’s say, hypothetically, that after you died, you were offered a second chance at life. An opportunity to go back and live your life over again, retaining all your memories.
Only when you arrive back in time, you meet an old friend whose life ended in tragedy. A fully preventable tragedy. A drug overdose,perhaps. But the wheels for that tragedy have not yet been set in motion. Your friend is not yet an addict.
How would you consciously work to prevent such a tragedy without letting it slip that you’re on your second life?
I hit the Post button and wince, waiting to be Thanos-snapped out of existence, but seconds pass and I’m still alive and kicking.
Hell yeah. Now I just need some stranger on the internet to solve all my problems for me.
I refresh the page once, then again, not sure how it works.
“Do you wanna grab dinner before my shift?” Madison asks, and I jolt at how close she is. In a hurry, I click away from Reddit and frantically open Word.
I catch her frowning at my screen, but if she saw my post, she doesn’t say anything about it. I scramble for a response.
“Oh. Uh.” I really don’t want to leave my computer. I’ve been psyching myself up for this fortwo days. “No, I should probably stay here. Work on my short story.”
“I thought you just turned that in,” she says, brow furrowed.
“Another one’s due this week.” I shrug helplessly.
“Okay.” She nods, understanding. “Text me if you want me to grab you a plate.”
Madison leaves. I refresh the Reddit page a few more times before I give up, close it, and search for a distraction. I apply to a couple jobs. I attempt to do homework.
An hour later, I’m back on Reddit.
And finally—an alert! Someone responded to my post.
Is this some kind of joke? if you read the posts around here, you’d know that is NOT how reincarnation works at all. are you some kind of troll??? get a life.
Okay, so, that’s not helpful.
I close my laptop. I’m just going to… go to sleep. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not going to think about my post at all.
After I’ve gotten ready for bed, I check Reddit one more time for good measure.
I have a DM.
The message is from a user called SecondTakeAnonymous with a few numbers after the name. I snort, because it doesn’t seem like a username that should be popular enough that it requires numbers.
The message reads:
SecondTakeAnon: Did this happen to you?
That’s it. That’s the whole message. Simple, to the point.
I freeze, the words sending a chill through my body. Because… that’snota logical response to my rambling, nonsensical hypothetical question.
