I remember the past 11 lives of my existence. Well I remember my knowledge, skills and memories but in a distant sort of way, like I'm watching a film instead of fully connecting with my past self. Which is kind of a relief because it doesn't affect my emotions too much.

However as my current (twelfth) life comes to an end I can't help but feel sorry for my future self, knowing she'll get no real childhood as her memories will make her feel too mature to live carelessly.

I take my last breath and hope that my next body is healthy unlike this useless bag of bones. The last thing I hear are my adoptive mother's whispers as she gently rubs my back "It's ok baby, it's ok" she kisses my forehead and I die with a peaceful smile on my face because with my death I've not only freed my soul from that shitty body but freed a woman who deserves better than the life she had with me.