Genesis [2]

Since my rebirth, several months have drifted by, and I've grown used to her constant presence. Gradually, I've noticed an improvement in my ability to maintain consciousness. Initially, I could only remain awake for brief spans, perhaps five to ten minutes at most. But now, I'm capable of staying awake for hours on end.

I must admit, being a baby is unbearably boring. My world is limited to my cradle. However, there are moments that break the monotony, like now, familiar hands playfully tickled my belly.

"Hey, Ricky, mommy's back." Her voice filled with warmth and affection. I did my best to maintain a serious face, but her playful touch elicited laughter that bubbled out of me uncontrollably.

Observing her expression, it was clear she was unusually joyful. "Do you want to hear the good news?" she asked, and I nodded eagerly, curious about what awaited.

"My baby boy is really smart." she exclaimed, her fingers dancing over my belly once more. Then, with a radiant smile that lit up the room, she delivered the news that filled her with such joy. "Daddy's coming home today."

Her joy was so contagious, it felt like I was catching it too. "Daddy have been working, but you'll finally get to meet him." It had been so long, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and curiosity about meeting this person.

As she cradled me, I pointed towards the floor, trying my best to communicate. "Dada... Gu, dada..." I babbled, hoping she'd understand. Her brows furrowed slightly, as she tried to understand what I was trying to say. I continued to point insistently at the ground.

After a moment of confusion, her eyes widened in realization. "You want to play?" She asked. I nodded vigorously. With a chuckle, she gently set me down on the floor, and I couldn't contain my excitement. 

"Sometimes it seems like you really understand me." she giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Even though it felt absurd for an old man like me to pretend to be a baby, I did my best to make it look like one.

Despite the oddity of my situation, I felt a sense of relief. At least now I could move my body. I crawled around the room, which seemed enormous from my new perspective. The furniture loomed like skyscrapers, and the woman towered over me like a giant.

As I explored, the doorbell rang, startling me. 'Really? Now of all times...' I sighed. The woman didn't notice my reaction and quickly scooped me up from the floor, her voice tinged with excitement. "Daddy's home." She hurried to the front door, holding me close to her chest. When she opened the door, a deep voice greeted us.

"I'm home, honey." A man stood in the doorway, dressed in a crisp black suit. His black hair was neatly brushed to the side, and wrinkles framed his eyes. His large nose added character to his stern face. Despite his rigid appearance, his black eyes softened as they met the woman's.

I couldn't help, but be impressed by him. He appeared to be some sort of influential figure. As I stared, a word escaped my mouth almost involuntarily: "Dada?"

He looked down at me, a hint of surprise flickering across his stern features. For a brief moment, a slight smirk touched his lips. He reached out and gently took me from the woman's arms, cradling me with a surprising tenderness.

"Hey, son. Dad's home." His voice rich with warmth. His stern face belied the affection in his eyes as he looked at me. The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, and I found it difficult to hold back my emotions. When I looked at him, I realized how awkward he seemed as he held me rigidly, as if he were afraid to hurt me if he moved.

I couldn't help, but laugh at the sight, a bubbly giggle escaping my lips. Both of them looked down at me, slightly puzzled and amused by my reaction. The woman glanced at him, her eyes twinkling with humor. "Let me help you, dear." She said with a playful, sarcastic tone.

He looked slightly relieved as she took me from his arms, his rigid stance relaxing visibly. "I swear, when I held him, suddenly, my mind got full of thoughts like I'd drop him if I moved even a bit." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You'll get the hang of it." she teased, expertly shifting me to a more comfortable position. "Just relax a bit. Babies aren't made of porcelain."

I gurgled happily, enjoying the exchange between them. The tension melted away, replaced by a shared warmth and laughter that made the moment even more special. Despite the strange circumstances, I couldn't help but feel a burgeoning sense of belonging with these two. 

Once again, a persistent question resurfaced in my mind. Why did this happen to me? As the woman held me close, her heartbeat a steady rhythm, I couldn't help, but think about the improbability of my situation. Perhaps everyone who dies is reborn with their memories intact, only to lose them as they grow older. The idea sent a shiver through me, like a cold draft sneaking in through a window. The thought of my precious memories fading into nothingness was truly disturbing.

Yet, as I nestled in her arms, feeling the warmth of her body and hearing the gentle hum of her voice as she spoke to the man, I felt a strange sense of comfort. Her hair lightly brushed against my cheek, soft as silk, and carrying the faint scent of lavender.

With me securely in her embrace, she walked to the bedroom. The room was cozy, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the curtains. She sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under her weight. She looked up at the man standing before her, her eyes full of anticipation. "So, how did it go?" she asked, tilting her body forward, her gaze never leaving his.

A slight grin spread across his face as he looked back at her, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I got it. I was promoted." he announced, his voice tinged with pride.

Listening to that, she let out a high-pitched shout of joy: "Reeeally?" In her excitement, she gently placed me on the bed and threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

The room was filled with the sound of their laughter. As I lay there, the softness of the bed beneath me and the warmth of the room enveloping me, I watched them with amusement. 'Maybe, soon, I'll get a sibling.' I thought, laughing inwardly.

Time quickly passed after that, and the days of being a baby were finally behind me. "Mom, wanna watch TV." I said, tugging at her skirt with my tiny hand, hoping my pleading eyes would convince her.

She looked down at me, her brows furrowing as she squinted her eyes. "Ricky, it's late, and you have school tomorrow." she said firmly.

My heart sank, and I felt a pang of disappointment. I had tried my best to look cute, but it didn't work. Despite my efforts, she led me to my room. As I climbed into bed, I couldn't help but laugh at the memory of my baby days, thankful that the time of being breastfed had finally passed.

As I lay there, sleep gradually overtaking me, I found myself in a familiar, dark space. 'This dream again?' I thought, looking around at the vast darkness that surrounded me. The air was thick and still, and an eerie silence enveloped me. Suddenly, a cold, robotic voice echoed through the void, "Time until system activation: 10 years."

A shiver ran down my spine. I had heard this before. The mechanical voice was both unsettling and strangely familiar. The words hung in the air, reverberating through the emptiness. 'System activation?' I wondered. What could it mean?

With a start, I woke up, my heart racing. The morning light streamed through the window, casting soft shadows across the room. I lay still for a moment, the remnants of the dream lingering in my mind. "What is this dream?" I sighed, pondering if it had anything to do with my rebirth, or maybe it was just a mere dream.

Standing up from the bed, I changed my clothes and as I did, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me—a six-year-old boy with chubby cheeks and big, wide green eyes that I had inherited from my mother. My hair, unlike my father's neat black strands, was a mess of jet-black waves that seemed to have a mind of their own. I was dressed in my blue and white navy school uniform, looking all prim and proper, with a red backpack slung over one shoulder.

I struck a pose, puffing out my chest and tilting my chin up. 'I must say,' I thought with a smirk, 'I'm going to be a beauty worth of world domination once I grow up.' I nodded to myself, admiring my reflection with exaggerated vanity.

"Look at those eyes." I said out loud, winking at the mirror. "The kind that will make people swoon with a single glance. And this hair!" I ruffled my unruly locks, attempting to strike a balance between bedhead and effortlessly cool. "A wild style that screams charisma."

I turned slightly, inspecting my profile. "And let's not forget these cheeks. Adorable now, but soon to be chiseled and handsome." I flexed my non-existent muscles, imagining the physique I was convinced I would one day have. "Future heartthrob in the making." I declared, pointing finger guns at my reflection and giving a mock salute.

Feeling quite pleased with myself, I grabbed my backpack and headed out of the room, swaggering with the confidence of someone who truly believed they were destined for greatness. "Watch out world," I muttered under my breath, "Ricky is on his way."

As I walked out and was about to open the door, I noticed it wasn't completely closed. My heart began to race as I slowly looked up and saw my mother standing there, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of pity, amusement, and sarcasm.

"Oh, you can go on, Ricky..." she said, her voice dripping with barely contained laughter. "Pretend Mom wasn't here at all." She slowly closed the door, but not before giving me a knowing smile.

Her words echoed from behind the door, and I felt my face instantly heat up. I glanced back at the mirror, my reflection now sporting a crimson shade across my cheeks and ears, red as a tomato.

I groaned inwardly, my confident swagger from moments ago now replaced with sheer embarrassment. "Seriously?" I muttered to myself, wishing I could disappear into the floor. My mother's chuckle could still be heard faintly through the door, adding to my mortification.

"Note to self," I whispered, "lock the door next time before practicing world domination speeches." The embarrassment was almost too much to bear; it seemed like every time I indulged in my little fantasies, my mom managed to appear out of nowhere. Yet, as I looked at my reflection again, my thoughts began to shift.

"With a face like this," I mused, my voice barely audible as I clasped my hands together, "I should get more chances at acting, right?" The thought brought a flicker of hope, but it was quickly overshadowed by a familiar sense of dread.

My stomach churned violently, a queasy sensation spreading as if my gastric acid was about to surge up my throat. I clenched my hands tighter, my knuckles turning white. The memory of those days I ran after my dream loomed large in my mind. I had always imagined myself on stage or in front of the camera, but the reality had been far less glamorous.

Every rejection letter, every failed audition, they all came flooding back, the sting of each one still painfully fresh. My heart sank, and the mirror's reflection blurred as my eyes welled up. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing down. The air felt thicker, harder to breathe, as if the memories themselves were suffocating me.

With another deep breath, I forced a smile. "Alright, Ricky." I muttered, my voice shaking slightly, "Time to focus on the now." But as I turned to leave the room, the bitter taste lingered on my mouth.