Beginning

A Chapter by Chan Chan

What is it really like to be immortal? Who is the new kid in school? Why does déjà vu happen?

How do you begin a story that is a never ending loop? If the story ends, and restarts at the same place, is there even a beginning or an ending? If the same events play on repeat for eternity, one could jump into the story at any given time and declare that moment, “the beginning.” Picture this; a baby boy is born on December 3, 1999. Said baby learns to speak and walk, the baby is now a toddler. The toddler becomes a child, the child becomes a teenager, the teenager makes friends and learns what it means to be alive. Then, an accident happens. The teenager is dead. The moment this human was born is most likely to be considered the beginning, and when he dies it is the end. Everything that happens in between is the story. Right?
What if after the teenager died, he was born again? Not in some holy afterlife with shining clouds and singing feathered women, but in the same hospital with the same exact events playing around him as the first time he was born, on December 3, 1999. All of the circumstances remain the same. The human in this description lives endlessly in a loop. The human in this description is me.
It would be one thing if I didn’t remember my past lives, but I do. It’s not like I can remember every detail of my teen years the second I’m born, but the memories come to me slowly as I mature. Normally by the time I’m fifteen I can recall quite clearly the majority of my past experiences. By this time I am also aware that I cannot die.
It’s not as interesting as you may think, because the people around me always do the same things. In every life my mother sings the same songs, my father works the same job, my classmates gossip about the same subjects. Only I am capable of varying my choices. I am trapped in a constant cycle of easy predictions and déjà vu. It’s only a little maddening. I have infinite time to see where every choice I make takes me. I can experiment to see just how much of a difference I can make in my life without the help or troubles of anyone else.
One time when I was eleven years old I ran away into the woods. I wanted see how long I could make it on my own in the “wilderness.” I got thoroughly lost and came down with a nasty fever. I died at some point along the line. It’s always difficult for me to recall the exact moment I died. It’s never really been important to me because I somehow always come back.
My name is Lee Kai. I am sixteen years old. This is the oldest I've ever lived to be out of the eight lives I have lived. If there's anything I'm good at, it's dying. Disasters seem to appear everywhere I go. Normally by the time I’m ten years old I get fed up with this ridiculous life cycle and do something stupid in a rage and end up getting killed. It’s different now though. I’m exploring uncharted territory. Everyday I have no idea what’s going to happen next. I have a theory. Maybe the gods are challenging me to live as long as possible. Maybe there is a specific point in time when I’m supposed to die, and when I do the cycle will end. I don’t know. As of now I’m trying my hardest to be normal, a task that has proven itself surprisingly difficult.
In this life I want to get a good job, which means I have to get good grades and stay focused during school. I know the material well enough, but I find myself slipping up on homework assignments and arriving late to class almost everyday. My mum tells me that motivation is my issue. I think I’m too smart for public high school. It only makes sense, I’ve been around far longer than any of my peers. I have a hard time making friends. My mum tells me that my “kill a b***h” demeanor throws people off. I think she might be right. I’ve heard that having friends would make school more enjoyable but I don’t find the presence of other humans pleasing. People are boring, predictable. I mean, that’s expected coming from me. It’s not their fault I live the same things over and over and over and over again…
Nonetheless, someone caught my eye today. A new student. A completely new face. I saw him in the attendance office this morning. He stood in front of me as I waited to write in an excuse for being late. He was taller than me, like most people, by a couple of inches. I wouldn’t have noticed him if the lady in the office hadn’t scolded him for wearing a hat inside.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever been to public school mister, but you are not allowed to wear that while you are under this roof.”
“Oh, sorry.” He mumbled, while removing his baby pink baseball cap which coordinated with a T shirt of the same shade. He scratched something onto the excuse sheet and turned around, putting his hat back on as he left the room. He smiled at me as he brushed past, to which I stared at him blankly. He looked like a model, or a singer. He was WAY too good looking to be going to such an ordinary school. When I stepped up to put in my excuse for being late, I glanced at his justification. ‘I didn’t want to come to school,’ was all he wrote.
I’ve been thinking about him all day. For whatever reason the image of his face keeps popping into my mind. It’s been so long since I’ve seen somebody new. He’s unpredictable. A new route. I’ve decided that I’m going to try to befriend him.
It’s September 3rd. School has only been in session for a week at best. When the bell rings for lunch, I normally sit at a small table near the exit by myself. I don’t eat at school, I feel weird when people watch me eat. I sit with my earbuds in and scroll through various social medias, mindlessly tapping away. Sometimes I use my lunch time to do homework. Today as I enter the cafeteria, I look around at the familiar faces. I’m determined to find him. He doesn’t appear to me among the sea of people. I turn to my usual table, motivation already failing. Well that didn’t last very long. I think to myself. I probably could have tried harder but… There he is, sitting alone at my table. He has a three course meal set up in front of him, obviously something from home. He seems very busy with his food and doesn’t take notice of me sitting down across from him. I pull my earbuds out.
“Hey.” I say. He looks up from his food, with his cheeks puffed full. He holds up his index finger as if to say, ‘one minute’, before swallowing his mouthful of food.
“What’s up?” He asks, already picking up another scoop of rice.
“Nothing.” I say. Awkward silence. At least for me it’s awkward, the boy in front of me is still focused on his food. “I always sit here.” I say, trying to make some sort of conversation.
“Oh, I can leave if you want.” The boy says, this time not waiting to chew his food.
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean… it’s fine.” I say.
“Cool.” He says, and continues to shove outrageous amounts of food into his mouth. I sit quietly and my mind begins to wander. What if I’m bothering him? He probably just wants to eat his lunch in peace like a normal person. What if he sits here everyday? Am I going to have to find a new table? SNAP! He waves his hand around a centimeter fom my nose, snapping his fingers.
“What?” I ask, automatically slapping his hand down. He doesn’t seem to mind my minor act of aggression.
“What’s your name?”
“My name?” I ask, and mentally punch myself in the head after the boy in front of me gives me a dumbfounded look.
“Yeah…” He says, very slowly nodding his head.
“Kai.” I say.
“Cool.” He replies, picking up his empty food containers and stuffing them into his bag.
“So… you must be new?” I ask. It’s kind of a dumb question because I already know the answer.
“No, my name is Lord.” He says, avoiding eye contact.
“That’s not what I meant - wait, your name is Lord?” I ask, trying to stifle a laugh. Lord holds up a hand before I can say anything more.
“It’s a nickname.” He says with complete dignity. “Or you can just call me Gay. I would prefer Lord though, it’s less confusing. My full name is Gaylord, don’t ask questions because I have no idea.” I can’t stop myself from bursting into laughter.
“Gaylord?” I wheeze. Lord’s false seriousness melts away and a blinding smile spreads across his face.
“We never discuss this again.” He laughs.
“No, honestly though, what school are you from?” I manage to ask between laughs.
“Have you heard of Elk Grove Arts Academy?” He asks.
“Oh yeah, the private school that looks like a castle. I heard it’s super hard to get accepted. What did you go there for? Are you into music?” I ask. Lord shakes his head.
“No, I never went there. I just wanted to know if you knew it. I just moved here from a few towns away. I have been told that I can sing though.” He says, inspecting his weirdly perfect fingernails. Everything about his appearance is somehow flawless.
“You sure ask a ton of questions, Kai. What about you?” For some reason my stomach flops when he says my name. This interaction is so new, so refreshing, I have no idea what’s going to happen next. I find myself struggling for words.
“What about me?” I ask, staring at my hands “Oh. Why did you move?” I ask. His dark eyes dart up from his nails to meet mine for half a second, then he lazily looks around the cafeteria letting out a heavy sigh.
“There you go asking questions again.” Lord says, bringing his gaze back to me. I can feel his eyes weighing on me, but I avoid meeting them.
“Are you okay?” He asks, genuine concern in his voice.
“What do you mean? I’m fine.” I say.
“Are you sure? Your face is all red. You don’t look so good.” Lord says, reaching a hand toward my face like he wants to make sure my temperature is normal. I lean to the side, dodging his outstretched hand.
“I always look like this, I’m just ugly.” I say, gesturing to myself. Lord shrugs.
“Fair enough. Maybe you should have eaten something. Food is very important.”
“I don’t eat at school.” I say. “Wait, did you just call me ugly?” Lord shrugs again.
“You said it first.” I open my mouth to retort, but the bell signaling the end of lunch cuts me off. I stand to leave, but I become extremely aware of the presence beside me. Side by side, Lord is much larger than me. I’ve never been tall, but Lord is easily four inches taller than me and much wider. His masculine figure doesn’t match his soft face, but somehow it works for him.
“You can take a picture if you want.” Lord says, stepping into the crowd of people flocking to the exit. I hadn’t realized I was staring.
“What? No, that’s not what I -” I begin to say, but Lord is already walking away.
“Your face is doing the thing again.” He observes. I can feel the heat rising up my neck to my ears.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say defiantly, but my words are useless. Lord sticks his tongue out at me before he is carried away by the sea of people pushing forward, and I am left by the table feeling a mixture of giddiness and annoyance.
The rest of my day progresses as normal, but I find it difficult to concentrate during class. All of my teachers seem extra intent on delivering the most boring lectures, their droning voices becoming background noise as I dive into my thoughts.
If I died right now, it wouldn’t matter. I would come back. That’s not the way I want to think. I want it to matter. I want to live long enough that starting over is no longer an option. I want to know what it means to try. I’m so tired of going through the motions of life. I can usually handle myself just fine, but sometimes I find myself slipping up, forgetting what I have done or haven’t done yet. I need to find something to keep me grounded, something to look forward to, something to keep me here.
Before long my last class of the day is over. Time moves quicker now than it used to. When you’ve lived to be fifteen three times, hours simply don’t hold the same significance. I live close to the school, so I walk home. I could drive if I wanted to, but the weather is still warm and I want to soak up the last weeks of summer before the sky turns sour. I walk with my head down, hands in pockets, earbuds blaring music. It’s a wonder I am able to hear someone yelling.
“Look out!” I glance up just in time for a large red pickup truck to speed by dangerously close to me. I stumble backwards, narrowly avoiding getting hit.
“F****t!” The driver yells out of his window. I recognize him as a senior from my school. His truck is full of passengers, all making obscene gestures and loud whooping noises.
“F**k you!” I manage to yell out, but it’s petty at this point because the truck is already screeching around a corner and flying off, leaving a trail of dust behind it.
“Whoa, are you okay?” I hear someone say behind me. I turn around to find one of my classmates, Milo Tassey. It’s weird for me to see him now, because I was best friends with him for my first three lives. After that, I started to give up on social interaction.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I say, dusting off the front of my shirt even though it’s unnecessary.
“Are you sure?” Milo asks. I internally groan. Milo always had a tendency to double and triple check that I was really alright. I know he means nothing by it, but it has always bothered me. I answer him anyway because I can’t get around his innocent expression of pure shock and concern for my well being, even though we’ve never spoken once in this life.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I say. A wide, toothy smile appears on Milo’s face.
“Wow, you could’ve seriously been hurt!” He says. “Do you know those guys?”
“Kind of.” I say. I’m thankful that Milo was looking out for me, but I’m already done with this conversation. He doesn’t seem to get the hint.
“I’m Milo.” He says, holding out a tanned hand that is far too large for his wrist. I opt to just stare at it.
“Yeah, I know. We go to the same school.” I say. Slowly his hand returns to his side, but his determination is unhindered.
“Oh, I haven’t seen you around much.” He says. “Are you a sophomore or a freshman?”
“No, we’re in the same class. We always have been.” I say. Milo’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink.
“Oh sorry, you look younger.” He says. “You’re just so-”
“Short?” I finish his sentence. His face becomes redder.
“Yeah.” He says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I let out a tired sigh. Milo is good kid, but he’s naive. He acts younger than he is, and his unique personality and weird sense of humour often get him a lot of hate. He’s still easily one of the most attractive people at school though, with golden skin and a billion dollar smile, so he has a lot of friends and popularity. He smooths down his bleached hair even though it already looks fine. Probably a nervous thing.
“I still don’t know your name.” He says.
“It’s Kai.” I say. “Look, thanks for everything, but I really should head home.”
“Oh. I understand.” Milo says, and a distant look settles on his face. He doesn’t turn or leave, he stays standing in front of me looking slightly to my left.
“Um, okay…” I trail off awkwardly, and turn to leave.
“I have the weirdest feeling.” Milo whispers. I stop and turn slightly to face him. He smiles a little and looks at the ground, kicking a small pebble to the side.
“It’s probably nothing.” He says, and looks up at me, but his eyes say something more. “I just feel like… I don’t know, like this has happened before. Is that weird?” A slow creeping sensation of pins and needles spreads across my skin.
“Yeah, totally weird.” I say. “See you around.”