Day 69

A few weeks have passed. Sixty days maybe? Hard to keep track as a baby. The days blur together in sleep, eating, diapers. I spend most of the time dozing, like a hibernating bear. When awake, I observe with blurry eyes. My new parents' voices comfort me as they lift me, even if I don't understand their words. For now I'm content to exist in this fog, wondering where this new life will take me.

My father's booming laughter echoes through the cottage as mother flashes him a coy smile. She's clever with her witty remarks, constantly leaving him chuckling. At night, I wake to glimpse their silhouette embraced in passionate intimacy.

During breakfast, father slips mother a fresh wildflower, kissing her hand gently. Her tinkling laugh lights up the room. They gaze affectionately, fingers intertwined, while I gurgle in my highchair.

On sunny days, father sneaks up behind mother as she hangs laundry. He sweeps her into his arms, twirling her while she squeals gleefully. Their visible joy warms my heart.

When mother bakes, father snatches a piping hot bun, juggling the hot bread and pretending to burn himself, much to her amusement. Playful banter fills the kitchen with life.

As they tuck me into bed, their teamwork is seamless. Father makes silly faces while mother softly sings lullabies. Together, they are my shelter against the darkness.

I drift off to sleep, memories of my past life invade my dreams. I see myself as a computer geek, always busy with technology and science. My social life wasn't great. I wished for friendship and romance, but I felt like an outsider.

Other guys saw me as a bookworm, and girls hardly noticed me. Loneliness consumed me as I was labeled strange. My programming and inventing skills felt like more of a curse than a gift.

Somehow, I had a girlfriend, Amanda. But the relationship only brought pain. "You're such a boring loser," she'd sneer when I tried to talk about my latest coding projects. Girls barely acknowledged my existence, and her cruel words stung me.

"Why do you always talk about nerdy stuff nobody cares about?" Amanda rolled her eyes as I shared an idea for a new AI system. Her harsh remarks made me feel small.

When we were intimate, Amanda's cruelty manifested differently. She became physically aggressive, causing me pain and discomfort. It was clear she used these moments to assert dominance and belittle me.

The day I excitedly showed her my prototype for a self-driving car, Amanda laughed cruelly. "You actually think you'll invent something useful? Keep dreaming, weirdo." Her words cut deep. I pleaded for understanding, but Amanda manipulated me further. "If you really loved me, you'd be normal for once."

My self-esteem eroded under her bullying. I felt trapped, unable to leave the toxic relationship. Amanda took sadistic pleasure in tormenting me about my passions, extinguishing any spark of joy.

As I awaken from the nightmare, I sigh with relief, cheeks damp from tears. The dark memories of my past life cling to me. Sensing my distress, my mother lifts me into her comforting embrace.

"Bhiodh do chridhe goirt, mo ghràdh?" she whispers, wiping my tears with her gentle touch. I nestle against her warmth as she sways gently.

In a hushed tone, my mother starts singing a lullaby, her voice washing over me like a soothing balm:

"Ò hì shiùbhlainn leat,

Mo cheann air do ghuailne,

Nuair shiùbhlas sinn le chèile,

Bidh sinn shuas am measg nan nial."

My eyelids grow heavy as she continues the melodic song. Her voice fades away as I'm pulled back into slumber, the gentle rhythm of her arms rocking me. The final notes of the lullaby accompany me into dreamless sleep.