Married 24 Times

It was my twenty-second birthday when I died for the first time.

I was killed by my husband. I say that, but it wasn't actually my husband who did the deed. I was kidnapped by men I knew were in his family's employ. They tied me up and dropped me into a river to drown, because I was not a virtuous wife.

But what did my husband expect from me? Though I was still legally his wife, he had abandoned me and was sleeping around with a mistress. Moreover, that mistress wouldn't stop provoking me. She was supposed to be my best friend, but she slept with my husband and flaunted their relationship in front of me.

Of course I wouldn't remain virtuous. I swore if I didn't go to heaven, I would become a vengeful ghost.

Instead of peacefully heading off to an afterlife, I woke up to my bedroom ceiling for the second time on the morning of my wedding.

I didn't fare much better in my second chance at life. I was determined to get revenge, not only on my husband, but also on the woman who had betrayed me. Of course things didn't go well. After trying to embarrass my so-called best friend in the same way she embarrassed me, I was similarly kidnapped and dropped into the river once more.

'What the hell is going on? I want to rest in peace!'

By the fourth time I died and reincarnated, I finally gave up. I decided if I was getting another chance at life, I would do whatever I wanted. Never mind this revenge business. I went out without a care in the world, I escaped from those thugs my husband had hired to follow me, and I flirted with men left and right.

As expected, I was killed when I returned home for bringing shame to my husband. I woke up in my twenty year old body just like always.

'I'm not leaving my parents' home today. That husband only brings me death.'

I fought and screamed and kicked and refused to leave my room until my parents couldn't take it anymore. I was slapped by my mother and forcibly dressed in my wedding gown. I refused to go back to that household where only death and misery awaited me. If my husband of five lives didn't want me, I didn't want him either.

In an attempt to escape from my marriage, I tried to flee from the wedding venue, but who would have known a car would run the red light? I died.

As expected, I woke up once again.

I spent the next nine lives trying to escape on my wedding day. I managed to avoid the first car, but then it was a runaway bus. I managed to avoid those, but then it was a random shooter. I managed to avoid those, but then I tripped and smashed my head on the sidewalk. No matter how many ways I avoided dying, two more would appear.

'So I can't live with him, but I can't live without him.'

'If I have to get married, I'll get married,' I thought, 'But I will not let that man control me.'

On our wedding night when he said those all-too familiar words: "Don't interfere with my life and I won't interfere with yours." I was prepared.

"Fine," I said. "Don't provoke me and I won't provoke you."

He wouldn't interfere with my life? I had seen that clearly those past five marriages. I wouldn't live a lonely, sheltered life inside this cold mansion anymore.

I spent my husband's money on extravagant vacations and traveled wherever I pleased. When my husband called me back for business events to appear on his arm, I was always tan and smelled like foreign places. He would wrinkle his nose at my disheveled appearance, but true to his word, he did not interfere.

This time, it was a mountain climbing accident on my twenty-second birthday.

The next life, it was lavish clothing and material things. I purchased every dream item I could imagine, all the things I had always wanted but never felt were reasonable. I even convinced my husband to let me rent out a theme park for my birthday, just for me.

Of course, just like all the lives before, I didn't have any friends. 'Who needs friends when all they do is betray you?' I reasoned. But I died while choking on a churro at the theme park.

The next three lives I spent checking off everything on any bucket list I could find. My search history for those three lives was filled with internet searches of "best things to do before you die". Since my husband had abandoned me through all our marriages, I decided I would abandon him for as long as it took before I was able to stop reincarnating. Unsurprisingly, I died quite a bit trying out extreme things.

I awoke in my twenty third life, and I couldn't take it anymore. I just wanted to end my miserable life. I would die on my twenty second birthday, just like always.

After my wedding, when I entered the house, there was nothing that could hold my interest. Life was mundane. My husband abandoned me yet again.

That mistress tried to provoke me again, but there was no revenge I could attempt. No satisfaction from trying to give her the same misery I had been suffering for so long.

"Alice, it's just a misunderstanding." She tried to gain my sympathy by playing the victim.

I stared into the face of this woman who claimed to be my best friend. My gaze dropped to the necklace at the base of her throat, identical to one hanging in my own jewelry box. I felt the emptiness inside me grow colder.

"Sure," I said. I may have smiled.

"Alice, please!" Tears had begun to run down her cheeks. She tugged at my arm, but I pulled gently away.

"It's fine." I turned away from her to call a cab. I didn't want to be here anymore. There wasn't a point to this conversation. I just wanted to go home to sleep.

I stepped into the street and raised my hand, and I felt a strong impact against my back. I stumbled forward, turning to see who had pushed me. She stood there, one foot into the street. Her hands were outstretched towards where I had been standing. Her expression was vicious, completely without a shred of remorse or surprise. A car horn sounded as I stared into her eyes before the impact forced blackness upon me.

I kept my eyes closed as I waited for the pain to fade. It never lasted more than a moment. Dying could be painful, but it was always blissfully short.

The pain did not fade.

I couldn't feel my body aside from the sense of overwhelming pain. I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see the state of my limbs, see that they were still there. But my eyes would not open, no matter how I willed them.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, everything above me was white and cloudy. This was not how dying usually went. This was not the familiar ceiling of my childhood bedroom. I blinked away the haziness, waiting for my vision to focus. I could feel pain, but also something warm. There was a warmth gripping my hand. I struggled to turn my head and found I couldn't. Who was it?

A face interrupted the whiteness. The face of my personal Hades, come to drag me back to Hell, though the order was all wrong. I wasn't supposed to see him yet, not until after I had died and woken up in my twenty fourth life.

I felt something wet land on my cheek. As my eyes focused for the briefest of moments, the face snapped into sharp clarity. There was a look of such grief on his beautiful face, I felt my heart nearly stop.

Was he… crying?

My vision clouded again before I could force out the question forming on my lips. I felt the air leave my lungs and the pain fade from my body. Blackness took me.