entropy

i was dead

Feeling the harsh wind on my tanned skin, the flying dust that enters my eyes, the flapping of soft water touching my feet, and the smell of salty air. This state is what I have awoken.

Today, I shall live again. Become new again. For the nth time, I shall be reborn. I wonder what I shall do next. Should I remain the introvert smart kid? Or test my luck in another sports? I should have tried swimming, then maybe I have had escaped.

I'm tired. Tired of repeating multiple timelines I've been trough over and over again. Tired of trying to find a solution to get away from the misery of this loophole. I can almost predict certain people's actions towards me, and have memorized many of the hateful words they have said, before and after my death. I even once chose to live my life in the most perfect manner it can be. But even that is not enough to keep me alive.

In the morning of April 3rd year 2002 I was born as the only child of my father's second wife. An infant brought to the world with hopes and joy. Although to my brother's discerning eyes I rather looked like a wrinkled small monkey but lacks the tail and fur. Alas, twenty-six years later I will die. Always at the same day and time, exactly at 6:37 in the morning. And in every death it is always a crime scene.

I have lost count of the times I've witnessed blood to be splattered and bodies to go limp and lifeless. Some deaths had been intentionally inflicted through suicide, but most of the time it is guised as an accident of an outright murder.

However, I am not the victim.

Somehow in every lifetime I end up killing three people including myself. But I solemnly swear to each grave of mine. I am not the murderer.