Forgotten Life

Chapter 2

Today before entering the cafeteria I scan the room for any sign of her. I assumed part of the curse was to be invisible, so her seeing me without being related to me is a bit frightening. I breathe a sigh of relief when I don't see her, and rush over to a vending machine nearby to get an apple and a bottle of water. Once I have my apple and bottled water in hand, I rush over to the empty table in the corner.

I decide to take out Unnaturally, by Stezine Claw. I thought that since I seem to have an infinite set of lives, why not learn about Mental Health Institutes to 1) Figure out if I belong in one or 2) See if I might want to work as a nurse in one. Plus, the book is strange enough that I'm sure none of these very intellectual individuals would bother opening it.

Just as I'm getting interested in the next chapter, textbooks and a lunch tray are dropped on my table, and the girl from yesterday has a huge smile on her face.

"May I?" She asks but sits down without bothering to hear my response.

She sticks her hand over the table, and I politely join mine with hers.

"The names Behna. Behna Lozier. Do you have a name?" She says.

Do I have a name? Boy, what a loaded question. "Hayvn" I say, quickle making a decision.

"Hayvn... Like, Hay-Vin?" She questions.

I nod.

"That's an awesome name. Very pretty! Does it mean anything?"

I shake my head. “Does yours?"

"I was named after my Aunt Behna" 

"Why?"

"She was killed... She was at work, and someone decided to rob the place. Some girl saw it happening and came into the place and tried tackling the guy with a gun pointed at my Aunt. They both died and the guy got away. The whole family adored her. It crushed my parents but they wanted to keep a part of her alive, so that's how I got my name." She explains with a shrug.

The story seems oddly familiar to me. I faintly remember it from the news and say with the utmost sincerity, "sorry for your loss".

"Thanks," she replies with a sad smile. "I mean, I never actually knew her. It happened a year or two before I was born. But it still feels like I know her. You know what I mean?"

I nod and give a shy smile. There is a long silence, but I can feel a question working its way through her mind. In an attempt to divert her attention from what I assume she'll ask about, I ask, "So you’re a new student?"

She shakes off whatever it was she was thinking about and focuses on me. "Huh? Oh, yea, yea I am. I transferred here from Florida. I miss it."

"Why'd you move to Pennsylvania?" I ask.

"My dad was offered a better paying job", she says with a shrug.

The wheels inside that head of hers are churning, and I can't think of another question to distract her until the bell rings. It has only been like, four centuries since I was part of a conversation that lasted this long; I think I’m doing pretty well.

Her forehead is scrunched together, her thinking face I presume, and she keeps her eyes on me. "What happened to you?" She blurts out, but not really in a rude way.

I look to the clock and see that we have a good twenty-six minutes left of lunch, and I can't see a way out of this. I pull a chunk of my hair over my face and keep my eyes focused on the table. Why would they choose white for the color of the tables? With a bunch of annoying vandalistic teenagers I would have chosen a color that would better hide the marks that will be left.

"I know I sound rude, but if we are going to be friends, we might as well skip through the difficult questions first. Right?"

I keep my eyes focused on the table and my lips sealed. It isn't like I'm forbidden to speak of my past… I just don’t remember where my life began and I don't remember what it is that makes me repeat the cycle of life with new features but the same scars in the same places. The only thing I have of my first life is my name burned across my collarbones.

"I don't know." I answer in partial honesty.

Behna reaches over the table, and moves my hair to the side.

"This one?" She says while pointing to my neck. "What about this one? It still looks fresh."

I reach up to move her hand away. I trace my finger over the long gash wound that encircles my neck. This is the most significant wound I have, and yet, it is the only one I can't remember. I have been stumped over this one for quite a few lifetimes. I have recurring dreams about it, but details of the events escape my mind before I have a chance to store it in my memory bank.

"I don't know." I say.

"How do you not know?" 

I shrug. "It happened a long time ago. Can't remember what happened."

This to my pleasure leaves her speechless. She looks down at the table, and then to me, to the scar on my neck, and back to the table. This cycle goes on throughout the rest of lunch.

With four minutes left, I grab my apple core, empty water bottle, and Behna's lunch tray. She stays where she is, dumbfounded.

I gently pat her back as I walk by so I don't alarm her, and inform her that passing period is about to start. She gathers her books, sticky notes, and a pencil and stuffs them in her bag. The stupor that has been stuck in her eyes this whole lunch period is starting to pass and her cheerful smile slowly returns.

"Can you help me find this class? Mrs. Barrett room 2904?" She asks.

I lead her through the familiar hallways that I have roamed through the last 3 times I've attended this High School.

She asks me about the book I'm reading and I shrug without giving an answer. I ask her if she likes to read to get all subjects turned away from me. Our small talk comes to a halt when I get her to her room. She thanks me and says she'll see me tomorrow at lunch. Fabulous.

As the last hour of school ticks by I decide that it really isn't very necessary for me to pay attention. I grab Unnaturally out of my bag. I flip to the page where my bookmark rests and find a pink floral post-it note on the page with Behna's number on it and a note saying, I want to know about the rest. She's lucky I even have a phone, being as I only have my 'Mom' and 'Dad's' numbers in it. I told them when I got it that it would be pointless because I wouldn’t use it. They insisted that I needed one because I am a growing individual and need to make friends.