Reincarnate [Isaac Lahey]

Chapter One

"It's about this boy and this girl and they love each other more than anything. They fall in love but they can never be together. When they're happiest the girl dies. He waits and he remains in love. Years pass and he's still in love and then one day she comes back. New name, new family...he knows it's her immediately. It's her soul and they're together again except this time...he's dying. It's like the world won't let them be together even though they worship the ground beneath each other's feet. I suppose life just keeps on getting in the way," the boy explained to her and she raised her brow at him confused as to why he was even trying to talk to her. It may have just been her own head but the mere thought of interrupting someone's book shop to talk to them was terrifying.

Nodding her head, she pressed her lips together with an awkward smile, "sounds charming," she muttered, her voice thick with a Scottish accent which was incongruous to the American tone she was in.

He raised his brow, "you a tourist?"

Was she? She'd been in the little town for a week, so was she still a tourist or could she say she actually lived there yet. "Nope," she denied. She may as well have been.

"Well, I recommend it to you," he added on as he held up the book he'd been explaining to her.

She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head with the same tense smile, "I've got what I came for," she countered, holding up the book of Renaissance art and the collection of letters, poems, and prose by Michelangelo, "I'll think about it though," she added on, not wanting to seem rude. Turning away from him, she headed to pay and escape the random boy. He wasn't rude, he wasn't uncomfortable, he wasn't judgemental or mean, but he was speaking to her when she had the social skills of a piece of toast.

Making it to her still-new home, she dodged the boxes which still needed to be emptied in order to get to the stairs. Her room was just as bad as the rest of the house with boxes filled with random things that were yet to claim their home. Dumping the bag onto the bed, she pulled out the two books and dropped one on the shelves - which had yet to be organised - and headed over to the bedside table.

Placing the artbook down, she grabbed onto a few of her favourite books - 'Medici; Godfathers of the Renaissance, 'Mary Queen of Scotts; My Heart is My Own', and another poetry book 'Lorenzo de' Medici: Selected Poems and Prose' which was ratted up and looked centuries old. After she'd stacked them in order of size so that the smallest one was on the top, she went to one of the boxes and pulled out a small pot. It had the shape of Michelangelo's 'David' head and yet on the crown of the head, there was a hole to put a plant in or pens or brushes. Placing it beside the books, she then wondered what she was supposed to put in it. There used to be a plant...there was no plant anymore.

Sighing, she dropped down onto the bed and using her foot she dragged one of the boxes closer to her. She knew what was in this box. As she reached in she pulled out a smaller box and a couple of small trinket dishes which were wrapped in bubble wrap. Unwrapping a dark brown wooden one she placed it down; opening the box which was filled with crystals she pulled out the ones which had the honour of being beside her bed. Amethyst, Aventurine, Dioptase, and her mothers favourite Galena.

Hearing a knock on her door, she briefly glanced over at the open object still trying to perfect the positioning of her crystals that were currently on display. Her father was the one who was stood there with his dark brown kind eyes and his fading grey hair. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted, "you excited for school tomorrow?"

Was anyone ever excited about school?

"Yeah, course," she lied, itching to get back to her unpacking.

"What do you want for dinner?"

Her brows furrowed at the words, "it's Sunday... we always have a Sunday dinner on Sunday."