One More Life

Start from the Basics

Ainsley decided to explore his room first. Just in case the original soul of this body had hidden a few books inside. And to his surprise, he did. A few under the bed and a few more behind one of the empty bookshelves. And empty journals in a hidden drawer on the only desk in this place. At the other end of the room. A bunch of papers inside the journals along with a tiny pencil. A pencil that was like modern times, but it was covered in white cloth. Ainsley figured that the pencil he was holding was purely graphite. Or something similar to graphite in this world. Opening it, Ainsley saw writings he could read. Most of it was gibberish, clear that the old soul was the one writing it. It was unreadable and looked like a child who just learned how to write. The letters were too large or too small. The words are scattered all over the paper and it isn't straight. However, there were a few that were neat and clean. Quite a contrasting look to the unreadable ones. But the childish writing covered it. Ainsley tried his best to read whatever the words were. Yet the only readable thing is the word is Hans. (Ainsley isn't sure how he could read it, but he can. This must be one of those I-can-read-their-language-without-learning-it experiences in the books he read must be about.)

Ainsley figured it was a name. Well, it was obvious it was a name. Apart from the name, the words were useless. Ainsley can't read them and he's sure that no matter how hard he tries, he can never know those words. So, he moved on to the other papers that were stuck in the journal.

As time passed, the papers were anything hardly different from a journal. With dates included, and the day was described as what the child had depicted. It was normal. If you consider abuse as normal, then it is. The child suffered from neglect, bullying, starvation from many. Even public humiliation from his own family. Some days were harsher than the others. Even if Ainsley could only read about what had happened to the child, his body shivered. His mind clouded with anger and hatred for all that happened to the child and him.

Ainsley wondered for so long on and what did he do to deserve this. He didn't do anything bad to people. People would call him kind despite his cold nature. Ainsley helped people and even let his seatmate once copy his homework when he forgot to do his. Ainsley didn't curse at his father for being a workaholic and didn't lash out at his siblings when they invited him to parties; he didn't want to come to. He knows their intentions. They just wanted him to socialize and, mayhap, find someone to love. But never did it come. So now, Ainsley can only ask himself what happened to them. His father was such a worrywart and his siblings too protective. They're different from the original's family. They're opposites. Ainsley sighed. He hoped that his father and siblings won't dwell too much on whatever happened to him.

In his thoughts, a knock came. Ainsley glanced at the door with suspicion. There were few people who would come to find him. In fact, for the past four days, only maids that would serve him meals would come. And he ate not too long ago. So, to have someone visit him is... suspicious. Then another knock came. "Young master?" the voice was soft and akin to someone soothing a crying child. That only made Ainsley warier towards the person outside. Whoever would use this tone must have ulterior motives. Seeing his family and the other people neglecting him. It would make sense if this person wants to use him. After all, what's better to manipulate than a child that just wants recognition and love.

"Young master? It's me. Hans." Ainsley blinked in shock. He figured that this Hans person was dead or fired. In one page, the original said that he hadn't seen Hans in weeks. It's safe to assume those things. Besides, aren't servants punished when they interacted with the black sheep of the family? At least, that's what Ainsley had read in fictional books. Conceivably to make antagonists eviler than they already are. Or more pitiful. Another knock and a call came. At this rate, Hans either would leave or stay. Worst-case scenarios, Hans would come inside to see if Ainsley was okay or not.