The concept of rebirth is something wished upon by a lot of people, some believe in it through religion, some through spirituality and crystals. I'm not part of any of these parties though, I simply wish for rebirth after I pass on, however, I don't believe it will necessarily happen. The simplicity and vastness of rebirth is what makes it so beautiful.
Smiling I continue drawing in my sketchbook, not that I believe I'm necessarily good as of now, however, that doesn't mean I can't grow and evolve with experience. Walking down the street I'm alone in my own world, doing small head bobs and not paying attention to those around me I continue shading in the roughly stitched-up work of art.
Looking up I'm stopped at a crosswalk, waiting with a few classmates of mine I look back down at my book. Deciding to finish it at home I put it into the inside jacket pocket of my button-up. My school has a dress code and strict guidelines for what you can wear. This outfit of mine is casual but formal, a Black t-shirt underneath my grey button-up, a pair of sweatpants also grey in color with the logo of our school on them. My mom thought it would be nice to support our school even though the prices were quite high for something of so little value.
Shaking my head I put my pencil in the pocket of my sweats, and hear the beep from the crosswalk. Starting to walk only a beat after my peers I look at the scenery surrounding me, the falling leaves of auburn red littering the path, not in amounts copious enough to impede my steps, but enough to be noticed.
Walking across several streets and arriving at the entrance of my house, I grab the key to unlock the door. Finally hearing the noticeable click of the lock being opened I quickly enter inside, closing the door after me. Walking to the stairs that are located to the left, I hurry up them after taking my shoes off. Skipping two steps at a time till I reach the top, then head right, wrapping over the bend and trailing my hand on the banister as I go.
Entering inside my room the first thing I do is throw my backpack on the floor, then take out my sketchbook and pen, setting them on my dresser I turn on my computer. This routine happens every day for the past three years on repeat, like clockwork.
Still having my earbuds in I take them out and unplug them. Yes, I still use the ones with a cord, and no I really don't give a shit about what others say about them. They work and aren't 200 dollars, that's a win in my book.
Logging into my computer I bring up google and search for SoundCloud, creating a new tab while that's loading up I type in Webnovel. The stories on here aren't that bad actually, really I go on here often to see if the fanfictions I like have been updated yet. The problem is most of the time they aren't, considering the author has other things to do besides writing, an example could be doing homework, watching YouTube, or hanging out with friends. I, however, am a no-life avid reader who doesn't give a damn about what the creator does in their spare time if it isn't writing.
None of this matters right now though, I'm only concerned with relaxation from the boring, mundane school day I had. I feel like the school system has diminished from the perceived prestige it used to have, before COVID of course. Nowadays school takes almost no effort, at least to me. Considering I actually pay attention to my teachers and don't procrastinate with assignments I may have in the past. Yes, I used to procrastinate a ton in the past, now that's changed drastically with the realization of how important school is.
I don't want to be held back or unable to do something I want to, just because of some stupid decisions I made in the past. My likes and goals will change with time, I could've wanted to be a chiropractor, or electrician, or the president of the United States. However, I'll never be able to achieve those if I lack simple credentials like a high school diploma; and if I do get a high school diploma, I see no reason to not get a good GPA when finishing.
Looking at the fanfictions I've read recently, I noticed none of them have been updated, yay. Closing the tab I instead open Hulu, deciding to watch a show I've seen several times before. Leaving the SoundCloud tab open for later use, I submerge myself into the fantasy world of Rick and Morty. Deciding to just start at the Pilot I hear Rick's opening line, "Morty, you gotta-come on- you gotta come with me." Falling down on the floor with his exed-out beer bottle, spilling the contents all over. Smiling I lean back in my chair and take a sip of the somehow, still cold water on my desk from this morning.
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Binging Rick and Morty throughout the evening until I feel a hunger plague me. Standing up and pausing mid-episode, I walk downstairs to the cupboard, opening and taking a quick glance through the items inhibiting the area. Being disappointed at finding nothing appealing I close the door and turn to the fridge, doing the same thing except not leaving empty-handed. Grabbing a bowl of blackberries then closing the fridge I decided that'll have to do, for now, I'll eat something else later. Popping a couple of berries in my mouth I'm bombarded by the juices and quickly squishing exterior, swallowing I nod while ascending back up to my place of residence.
On the top and last stair, my path is heeded. My older sister standing in front of me, even with the difference in elevation were eye to eye. "What are you doing?" With a voice smug and derogatory, she looks at me with scorn, like I'm trash cluttering up the area. "You do know dinner is soon right. I'm sure you could wait a couple of minutes without starving to death." Pushing past my unmoving form she walks to the left of me giggling to herself like she just thought of the funniest joke in the world. Looking at her over my shoulder while she says, "Or maybe you can't, considering your size you must be eternally hungry." Not stopping she continues down the steps and disappears into the kitchen.
Turning back around I continue my journey back to my room while sighing in annoyance. This cycle has been happening every day since my sister has reached the threshold of 'cool'. I personally don't understand the need to be an ass though, guess I'm just built differently. Her words don't really affect me anymore, becoming nothing but white noise along with the rest of her 'clique'.
Her transition into this persona actually reminds me of those cliche animes where the sibling of the MC becomes incredibly rude to the cast and becomes some low-ranked antagonist. The reasoning isn't even a good one, "Oh, I'm super-cool now and cool people do this and that." Or, "Oh, yeah everyone else is this fake and bitchy person, I guess I should try to fit in here."
Shaking my head while opening my door, setting the bowl on my desk then going to close the door. Making sure not to slam it I quietly shut it close. Feeling the sudden want to continue my drawing, I go and grab my sketchbook from the position I set it in previously. The exhaustion mentally and emotionally from dealing with her is setting in now. It's a great remedy if you need sleep but right now I don't, what I need is to finish my sketch or watch more Rick and Morty, either one of these two options works.
Shading in more of the hair I make sure to have slow, sophisticated strokes of my pencil, as to not smear nor create unevenly shaded lines. The drawing itself is a character in a show I like named Stiles Stilinski. Personally, he is the best character in the show, his Nogistune arc is also the best season on the show hands down. With the rough shading of his hair being finished, I create small grids to the right and left of the neck, making a small outline of my drawing's posture.
Feeling the nose isn't shaded in enough I deepen the graphite into the paper just a little more. Satisfied with end result I create a little signature, something simple but it signifies I made this. (The photo isn't mine, whoever made it, Kudo's to you.)
Laying down on my bed I invite the tiredness that comes with comprehending women's actions, arms out like I'm about to make a snow-angel I lay down in the middle of the bed, legs off the edge and head not on a pillow I go to sleep, dreading the next mundane day after this one.
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Waking up on a nice pillow feels great, you know the mornings where sleep really got you good and now you feel amazing. In one fluid motion, I hang my legs off the edge and rub my eyes with the backs of my hands. Finally opening them I yawn but pause when bringing up a hand to block it, looking around my room- or whoever's room this is that isn't my own, well until I feel and tingling pass by my skull, then the influx of knowledge that follows with it.
Instead of a skull-bursting pain that fills my entire being as I've read in numerous rebirth scenarios. What I actually felt was something akin to the emotional and mental turmoil that came with the circumstances and feelings I now have. The devastation at the loss of my mother, the longing and love I feel for my dad, the feeling of a lifelong friendship with Scott, and last but not least- the childhood crush I have on Lydia.
I use words signifying my feelings because when I woke up in Stiles body I became Stiles, just with memories and feelings from another life. The age I'm at right now is nine, right after the loss of my mom, I'm in a state of chaos internally. Laying back down in my bed I process all that's happened recently, what I remember from the show, what I remember from this time, and ways to shift my likes and dislikes into a mix of things I liked to do in the past and now future. Putting my right arm over my eyes I contemplate the ways to make the best possible future for me, as soon as possible.
(That's it, I made the rebirth and backstory more extensive because I feel like I rushed the last one. Yes, this chapter is shorter than my usual because I have tests and essays I need to do. I don't study, of course, schools too easy for that, however, I don't want the possibility of not doing good so I'm reviewing old assignments and formulas. Sorry for those of you who like 10,000 words a chapter, I'll try to release one like that this weekend. Later.)