This is a story I have been wanting to write for a long time and I hope wewe enjoy it.
Reincarnation
"I'll do it!" I shouted at the juu of my lungs. "I'll really do it!" They honestly thought I wouldn't do it. They honestly believed I was crazy but I'm not! I'm not crazy! I refuse to believe that I am mentally insane.
"Just put the kisu down," alisema my father in a soothing tone. I'm not a baby. wewe can't force me to do anything. "Becky, honey, wewe don't want to kill yourself. It will not bring wewe joy."
We were circling around the chajio, chakula cha jioni meza, jedwali and I had a kisu close to my throat. One songesha and I would die. Peaceful, blissful, death. I couldn't wait. I have been waiting for an excuse to kill myself and today has aliyopewa me that excuse. It isn't because I'd me being bullied. I'm stronger then that. I can stand up to bullies and always win the battle. It wasn't because my boyfriend decided to dump me today. My boyfriend loves me too much to dump me but he doesn't upendo me enough to stay faithful. It is entirely because of my parents. I only have them to blame for everything that is screwed up in my life. They have inflicted nothing but pain since I've been born specifically my mother. Today, today, I am fed up with it.
"You don't want to do this," alisema my mom.
"I am certain I want to do this. I want to die! I want it!"
"I could careless about what wewe want. I will not be one of those mothers whose daughter killed themselves." Her brown eyes were turning an odd color. Maybe red au orange. Fascinating how wewe much wewe learn about someone right before your death. "You will not kill yourself. If you're going to die it will be kwa my hands. Got me?!"
"You can't stop me," I said. With one flick of my wrist I was dead. Now my story is just beginning. wewe will find this tale intriguing and it will grasp your imagination.
Okay, after wewe die I expected blackness. I am not a religious person so I didn't expect a heaven au hell. I expected compete blackness. I don't like my life would end I wouldn't even notice. My voice inside my head will die. My thoughts would die with it. Everything would disappear and wewe wouldn't notice. I was wrong. My theory had flaws. My theory was wrong.
Instead, I found myself in a white nightgown with my hair undone and in messy curls. My makeup was fixed horrifyingly. I was in the middle of an office building like the ones of see on tv. Yeah, it was like that. The room was empty except for a tall, old man who I refuse to believe is Jesus.
"Hello, Rebecca Anne White," he greeted. "I am Keeper of Records. wewe may call me K.R. I am here to escort wewe to your inayofuata body if wewe wish. wewe have two options; a new body and soul au forever live here and do something with your undead life."
"Explain please." I was way zaidi calm then I should be but hey, this proves everyone else's Jesus theory wrong so I'll ride with the tide.
"Well, going into a new body means being born again but in someone else's body and someone else's thoughts. wewe won't feel a bit different, in fact, wewe wouldn't even notice the change. wewe wouldn't even remember your old life." I nodded for him to go on. Tempting. "Then the sekunde the option is for wewe to become immortal and live here. wewe can take on a job and if wewe do well enough then wewe will become an Angel."
"I would like the first option please."
Reincarnation
"I'll do it!" I shouted at the juu of my lungs. "I'll really do it!" They honestly thought I wouldn't do it. They honestly believed I was crazy but I'm not! I'm not crazy! I refuse to believe that I am mentally insane.
"Just put the kisu down," alisema my father in a soothing tone. I'm not a baby. wewe can't force me to do anything. "Becky, honey, wewe don't want to kill yourself. It will not bring wewe joy."
We were circling around the chajio, chakula cha jioni meza, jedwali and I had a kisu close to my throat. One songesha and I would die. Peaceful, blissful, death. I couldn't wait. I have been waiting for an excuse to kill myself and today has aliyopewa me that excuse. It isn't because I'd me being bullied. I'm stronger then that. I can stand up to bullies and always win the battle. It wasn't because my boyfriend decided to dump me today. My boyfriend loves me too much to dump me but he doesn't upendo me enough to stay faithful. It is entirely because of my parents. I only have them to blame for everything that is screwed up in my life. They have inflicted nothing but pain since I've been born specifically my mother. Today, today, I am fed up with it.
"You don't want to do this," alisema my mom.
"I am certain I want to do this. I want to die! I want it!"
"I could careless about what wewe want. I will not be one of those mothers whose daughter killed themselves." Her brown eyes were turning an odd color. Maybe red au orange. Fascinating how wewe much wewe learn about someone right before your death. "You will not kill yourself. If you're going to die it will be kwa my hands. Got me?!"
"You can't stop me," I said. With one flick of my wrist I was dead. Now my story is just beginning. wewe will find this tale intriguing and it will grasp your imagination.
Okay, after wewe die I expected blackness. I am not a religious person so I didn't expect a heaven au hell. I expected compete blackness. I don't like my life would end I wouldn't even notice. My voice inside my head will die. My thoughts would die with it. Everything would disappear and wewe wouldn't notice. I was wrong. My theory had flaws. My theory was wrong.
Instead, I found myself in a white nightgown with my hair undone and in messy curls. My makeup was fixed horrifyingly. I was in the middle of an office building like the ones of see on tv. Yeah, it was like that. The room was empty except for a tall, old man who I refuse to believe is Jesus.
"Hello, Rebecca Anne White," he greeted. "I am Keeper of Records. wewe may call me K.R. I am here to escort wewe to your inayofuata body if wewe wish. wewe have two options; a new body and soul au forever live here and do something with your undead life."
"Explain please." I was way zaidi calm then I should be but hey, this proves everyone else's Jesus theory wrong so I'll ride with the tide.
"Well, going into a new body means being born again but in someone else's body and someone else's thoughts. wewe won't feel a bit different, in fact, wewe wouldn't even notice the change. wewe wouldn't even remember your old life." I nodded for him to go on. Tempting. "Then the sekunde the option is for wewe to become immortal and live here. wewe can take on a job and if wewe do well enough then wewe will become an Angel."
"I would like the first option please."
This is a poem I came up with
The pain is far greater
the pain is almost blinding
wewe alisema you'd always upendo me
a rope of upendo wrapped around me, a binding
But now I know the truth
You're nothing but a fake
wewe took my moyo and played with it
and now my moyo does nothing but ache
I wish to hear your voice again
I wish wewe had never hurt me
for now I can't even look at wewe
without having to turn and flee
This pain has gotten worse
I can't stand it much longer
but if I take a blade....
I can take the pain wewe gave me and make a different pain stronger.
The pain is far greater
the pain is almost blinding
wewe alisema you'd always upendo me
a rope of upendo wrapped around me, a binding
But now I know the truth
You're nothing but a fake
wewe took my moyo and played with it
and now my moyo does nothing but ache
I wish to hear your voice again
I wish wewe had never hurt me
for now I can't even look at wewe
without having to turn and flee
This pain has gotten worse
I can't stand it much longer
but if I take a blade....
I can take the pain wewe gave me and make a different pain stronger.