The Journeys of a Lost Soul

Into the World

"I crave time by myself to sit and heal my heart before I step out into the world again," - Gemma Troy

With a start, I cried out. I always did, it was an unremarkable detail that is never missed in the art of birth. A new being is brought into this world and I am the soul who inhabits it.

I felt new as I cried. I knew I couldn't talk -- I had tried that the first time -- I just wasn't ready yet.

I couldn't walk or run away, I had to relearn everything. I had to go to school again.

But I don't remember anything. The second of eternity that I was Nowhere had stripped me of everything I used to know and I need to start over.

The only reason I always remembered this was because I was a Lost Soul.

The Lost Soul.

I had never found my Purpose. In every new life I had been in, I had never been able to find whatever it was.

But, as I sat there in the room of the hospital in my mother's arms, I felt different than all the times before. There was some type of finality.

I took a deep breath and willed myself to stop crying to witch I magically obeyed.

I took the time before my eyes closed for some much needed sleep to study the woman who gave birth to my body. And then my eyes drifted shut and when they did, there was darkness. And my gut told me that would be the last time I saw Nothingness.