Her Past

The First life I lived, I lived in a confused, lonely, and fearful world with no one but myself. I was in the head of a woman. I heard her thoughts, but she couldn't hear mine. I saw through her eyes, but no one could see me. Luckily despite having the knowledge of an infant, I didn't have the need to eat, drink, or sleep outside of when the First did. I just cried in confusion where no one couls hear me because I didn't know any better. She lived a simple life with a loving husband and fourteen children in a garden. I didn't remember much from the first three hundred lives, but I remembered bits and pieces. By life three hundred and one, I came to the conclusion I was some sort of spirit that followed the lineage of the First through the centuries. Everytime a female was born, I left the mother and watched from inside the new child. I watched as my previous host died, and felt like I was dying of boredom because all I could do was watch. I had no control over my hosts. All I had to do was listen, learn, and think. It helped to fill the void inside of me, made me feel less disconnected. I traveled all over the globe, and watched technology explode. Finally, something interesting after so many years with so few advancements. The world actually sped past me faster than I could understand. 99% of what I had seen was primitive compared to this final century. I say final, because I finally took over a person who felt different to the rest. She felt warm and comforting in a way I vaguely understood as an emotion my hosts felt towards their mother. Perhaps with this life, I would see my creation?

That didn't make a lot of sense to me, but I never fully understood what I was anyways. She was on top of the new technology that so puzzled me. She was a pro gamer. When she got pregnant, I felt a connection to the fetus not unlike my previous transfers to the mother's firstborn female, so I knew the child was a girl. But the pull of transitioning felt far more powerful than all my previous hosts. When Lillith was in the final month of pregnancy, she entered her gaming capsule to begin work like every other day. I had two points of view, what she saw in the game, and the state of the world just outside the capsule. There was a terrible storm coming. With a strike of lightning, my hosts consciousness was gone and I separated from my host. It was dark and I could see nothing. Was this the end of the Firsts lineage? Would I now have to sit in this dark boredom for eternity? I wasn't looking forward to it, but it's not like I could do much else. So I waited and just thought through my past hosts lives.

I just floated in peace for what seemed to be a few moments. Then, there was light. I heard crying, but it wasn't my new host wailing after being born. No, this was a wail of grief. Lilliths husband, George, was kneeling at the edge of the capsule as paramedics retrieved my new host from my past host Lillith. This new host was different though. Her thoughts weren't trying to overpower mine. It's like I was the only one inside her head. I paid it little mind. The doctors smacked the babies bottom to get it to cry. I mentally protested. Then, I felt my new host give a small sound of protest, as if she followed my commands. That had never happened, so I quickly brushed the notion away as I looked through her baby-blurred eyes at the white shadows surrounding her. The doctors seemed satisfied with the small sound, and stopped spanking her. My hosts eyes dropped and I felt overwhelmingly tired. So when her eyes drooped, I willingly let sleep take hold of us. I couldn't wait for her to grow a little older so I could play with her dreams. It was the only time I was in charge. The dreams they had were whatever I shaped them to be.

When my latest host finally awoke again, she was in George's arms. I looked at him curiously. He had bags under his eyes and seemed tired. I wished I could comfort him, but my host was never someone I could control. My host seemed to comply with my wish as it's little hand brushed his cheek. I could feel the prickly fuzz under her fingertips. George gripped me tighter and I complained about the pain. My host once again seemed to follow my orders and burbled out a few nonesical words. I froze, and she stopped. I began to laugh. I was finally in control.