When I wake up tomorrow morning, will I be younger?

The story

When we were young, we were taught to respect those who came before us. However, that has destroyed my life a couple of times. It may not seem likely that I have died or have gone through battles because my skin is flawless. I have no tattoos, no piercings, no scars, or physical blemishes. I am pale, but I get a healthy glow after spending time in the sun. I have waist length brown hair and I will not lament about it being chestnut, or golden or streaked with black. Neither will I give compliments to my eyes, which are blue. But they are not strikingly sapphire, or filled with flecks of yellow, or an endless pool of a water or any of the other rubbish that may be attributed to them. It is just my appearance and there is nothing wrong with it. I would say that was an issue, but I could care less. In my decades of living, every blemish that has appeared has been as quickly removed. Any elementary doodles put onto to my skin was scrubbed away without bubbles and water. Any piercing closed over one by one, at a pace that confused me, as every other blemish leaves quickly. If I were to trip and fall the scrapes and cuts and bruises will never be. The only reason I know that these things are supposed to mark my body is because they did at one time. I had marvelous doodles all over my skin, and my earlobes were full of jewels. My face had other adornments and my favorite was my belly button ring. I got it for my 18th birthday, and I get it every year I am 18. The one blemish I miss the most was a wicked scar that went from my pinkie to the inside of my wrist. This happened because I did not catch my dagger in time. I was fifteen at the time, and my classmates found it hilarious! I was in year 5 at the academy. Have I shocked you, did you think that this was a chosen one story where I was separated from my peers at an early age to learn who I was? No, my path never differed from those who I grew up with. Everyone as old as I have skin as flawless as mine. We all knew this would befall us one day, but we did not know when. Mine happened when I was 20, and I was glad!  I held onto my scars and jewels like they were worth something. I could also give you a list of seven other fools who became flawless with me, and just as many who are still flawed. My cousin's mate became flawless when he was quite young, but I don't believe he was as young as he wants everyone to think.  The language of flawed and flawless may seem archaic, but not so much when we expected it. We are taught to respect those who came before us by paying tribute to them on our bodies. Sadly, I was stuck in a cycle where I paid homage to myself. I have not ever aged a day passed 24. I know this may be strange, but I told myself that the day before my deathday I would draft my story.  It happens mid-June every year, so I am perpetually twenty-three and a half. I wake up the next morning and I am some year younger. On my bedpost I have notches for every time this happens, and the year I revert back. And I know what to do because I retain my pervious self's knowledge for an hour. Thankfully, I never regressed to an age passed six years, but I've been close.  Tonight, will be my forty second time I am twenty-three. The first time it happened, I was rightfully scared. I was in my 15 years body! My scar was newly formed, and I was underdeveloped. But! For an hour I had my past live playing catch up with me. I spent that time in bed, which wasn't unusual because I was a moody teenager.  My memories were telling me of nearly a decade's worth of information and I was hormonal. I was inconsolable and mourning the lose of my young adult life. I got up and went to see my family, see if they had changed. They didn't, nothing from my house had changed, it was the same as it was nearly ten years ago.  I cried that whole day! I didn't know what was happening, all I could remember was my pervious life and everything that happened.  The strangest thing was that my 15-year-old body thought I had my belly button pierced. That fateful day in mid- June, I decided to live my life as I remember it. No repentance and no forgiveness, I wouldn't change a single thing I did until I was 23 and a half.  I thought I was given a hall pass on life, but I didn't like it and I couldn't change it.  The next time it happened, I was eight, but I knew a couple decades knowledge at a time when it didn't matter.  I knew how to use a camera filter at a time when Facebook was in its infancy. I decided that every time this happened, I would give myself a new blemish. Unfortunately, I became quite reckless, but nobody knew why. Everyone called me rubber band for being able to bounce back, but I called myself a cat for living multiple lives. One year I got a lifelike cat on my back and I had that cat there every year until I was twenty.  I got a version of that tattoo done 12 times before I forgot the meaning of it.  This time, for my 42nd time of being 23, I decide to pull a tooth out to see what would happen when I wake up.  So I'm holding a bloody rag to my jaw, a loose tooth on my vanity and I'm pacing around my room, yelling obscenities when I hear a knock at my door.  I look out my window and see a cop car.  I try to remember ever getting arrested in all my years and I can't. So great, this is a new experience for my next self to learn from. I charge to my front door, push my hair out of face and open the door. The officer leans against my door jam and appraises me. I would have found it charming and sexy if I hadn't lived as long as I have and I'm waiting to reincarnate. AHA! A new tattoo! A phoenix! How come I've never thought of that? Anyways, if I was ever in the market for a partner, he'd be my type. He was on the chubbier side, but my past lives are telling me its time to go for something new. Anyways, that's why I pulled my tooth out.  To see if tomorrow I wake up with this blemish in my younger self or if the mandate to respect those who come before you applies to me.  The officer says something about being called for a domestic disturbance, but I've already wandered away.  He kindly takes that as an invitation and I'm already pulling a juice cartoon from the fridge.  I can feel him judging me and my living arrangements as I put the cartoon to my lips, forgetting about my missing tooth. The man sits on my white couch and I'm the one disturbed by his reckless manner.  My furniture costs more than his police wagon! I decided to spend my money lavishly in the last 12 months if I'm going to die anyway.  I figured it's like the accumulated birthdays presents I've missed out on.  The officer opens his mouth again and then closes it. He gets up and pokes around some more. I don't really feel like casting him out because he's only doing his job, but he's ruining my peaceful existence at this point.  I sigh and put a frozen pizza in the oven. He'll be gone by the time it's out.  I open a bottle of really nice red wine and I know he's making assumptions about me.  Probably a sugar-nepo-trust fund- orphan baby.  I don't know which option is worse!  I suppose they're all true. I should be nearing my eighty's by now but instead I'm stuck in a god forsaken time loop. My family doesn't age, my friends always remember me, my dogs greet me loyally.  I guess that's another failed assumption. That time travelers outlive their loved ones. Huh. Am I a time traveler? I can't use any knowledge and my body rejects all marks past a certain age.  I still don't understand what's happening and it's been decades.  Anways, he's satisfied and left and I'm eating my pizza and my really nice wine, and I am alone.  I have plenty of friends, and previous years I've gone out and partied the night away but there comes a time in the night when I go home and I'm different when I wake.  I have tried to tell others about my transforming, and I can say the words and they remember them-which is different than other time travelers- but I've begun to care less recently. I know everything by now. I know what they'll say and how they'll react and how my mother cries and my brother gets cold and upset for a couple days. I don't know why, I guess because I'm on an adventure he's not.  I know about 9/11 and the disaster after, the 2008 market crash, the ruinous fashion and dramatic reality tv that marks the 2010s. I am there for the birth of the internet and the aftereffects about it. I know about the Hillary scandals, Trumps era, and COVID 19. I know about the Ukraine war and how Betty White and the Queen died.  I relive every good and bad thing in popular media, and I never escape it.  Never aging past 23 has its perks, I'm young enough to be hot and appreciate my youth, I'm old enough to know mistakes before they happen.  My friends think I'm crazy for knowing about all of this stuff before it happens or how bad that guy is going to break their heart or don't go to the concert in Manchester even though the tickets are cheap.  I want to grow old and raise a family and have my memories passed on through other people. I want to die with my partner beside me and know I am loved. I still remember crying the first time watching The Notebook, coincidentally the same year Barbie was released for the first time. I was 19 and didn't know my life was never going to end like that.  While everyone is praising June to be the best month of the year, I would rather time not exist. Right now it's June 2023 and I want to die.  For real this time. I put my tongue where my loose tooth should have left a hole, but I guess I know the results of that experiment.  I hope that whoever finds my dairy in the future thinks that I lived a good life. Because I did. I saw more good in the world than bad.  I remember all my presents, all of my friendly laughter. I see my parents as they are, as humans, and have more grace with them. I still am a brat every time I am teenager because it's the only way to let go of angst but at least I know when I say I'm sorry and I mean it now.  I remember seeing all of my cousin's homes and how cool they are. I remember all my family vacations and the sun setting on the Vancouver Coast. All the afternoons I spend with my siblings. All the ice cream cones that stay frozen just a little longer, just for me. Every time I rewatch a movie and enjoy the ending instead of spoiling it for my companions. I will always hold The Notebook in high regards because I know it comes true. I hope someone finds my thoughts and knows the truth about them.

*****Morning New Report******
In the early hours of June 24 2023, philanthropist ---- ------------ died peacefully in their sleep.  There was no crime committed but a police officer was reported at the residence earlier that night. This officer claims to have seen ----- heat up a frozen pizza and drink some nice wine but not say a word. Upon inspection, no cross contaminates are found in the wine, the pizza or in the apartment. There was a bloody rag on the counter and Kleenex on the vanity, however this individual was past the age of flawlessness. They were holding a writing pen but no open journal was on display.  Was there going to be a suicide note written? This theory is not being investigated by police. ------ was the second youngest sibling in a line of five other children and two loving parents. They had numerous friends and would appear on news shows to talk about their passionate subjects.  We hope that whatever the reason for the passing of this bright young soul, they had a happy life.