"Lucas! Wake up! You're gonna be late!"
I was never a morning person. The cool shade of the night always complimented me much better.
As for this 'Lucas' fellow. Well, that's me. My new name is Lucas; Lucas Redvern Anzlein.
It had a nice ring to it.
By this time, it had been 7 years since my birth. I guess 'rebirth' would be a better way to describe it.
Anyways, this meant I was now 7 years old. Of course, this was my second time turning 7, so I wasn't expecting much. Just another year older, right?
Wrong.
In this world, it's seen as a momentous occasion, a transition toward adulthood.
Of course, I wasn't considered an adult yet though. Think of it more like a trial period toward maturity.
Seems kind of pointless in all honesty.
I mean I already hit this age in my previous life and nothing happened to me. I would argue that's when my life started to go downhill.
Regardless, with this discovery, I also realized that this is the age that young children all over the world must start attending school.
...
Bringing us back to the present, I'm now faced with a rude awakening from my mother.
I should probably get up. The longer I stay in bed, the higher my chances of facing punishment.
I rub my eyes and pry them open as the sun's rays shine through the window, temporarily blinding me. It takes a few blinks before I can adjust to the light.
I feel a yawn come while I reach my arms and legs out to stretch. Unsurprisingly, sleep feels much better when you get the right amount.
I'd gotten used to staying up until the sunrise peeked over the horizon back in my world.
I told myself that there just weren't enough hours in the day for me to do everything I wanted, but deep inside I knew it was just to escape the troubles that the daylight caused.
When the sun was out, so were all the people. Their problems, their drama and their worries would all surface along with the sun. But when the dark of night stood to veil the world, all fell hush.
The empty void of space became an empty canvas to swallow everyone's thoughts. The ambient noises of the cityscapes would drown out the chaotic nature of the day. The flickering lights plastered against the open night sky painted a landscape more precious than any artist's rendition.
A place to escape to.
A place to hide away from all the suffering.
A place to let myself go.
I stared at the abyss and it stared back at me. It looked at me and told me everything would be fine. For once, as I sat idly by, the night — it made me feel okay.
...
I went on a little tangent there.
For now, I was caressed by the warmth of the sun.
I was in the middle of stretching when I harshly slammed my knuckles against the headboard. I instinctively yelped as the shock travelled from my hands to my head, immediately waking me up.
My body was forced upward and I quickly sat up in my bed. My knuckles ached while had started to rub them to minimize the pain.
I reluctantly leaped off of the mattress and shivered slightly as my bare soles made contact with the cool wooden floor.
My legs weren't long enough to reach the floor, so there was a little drop before I could touch the ground.
I looked to my left and glared at my school uniform which was neatly folded atop my dresser.
I completely forgot I had to go to school.
It was a generic uniform. White buttoned shirt, navy-blue blazer and navy-blue trousers. What I assume to be the academy insignia is emblazoned on the left breast of the blazer.
A silver rose decorated with a halo and wings framed by the outline of a golden shield. Sitting under it all is a set of text written in a script that I knew nothing of.
I trudged over and haphazardly wore the assortment of clothing. It had fit me with just enough room to be safe. This was all thanks to the multiple tailoring sessions I had been forced to attend.
My eyes have begun to droop again as persistently pried them open. I dragged my feet out of my room, across the hall and down the stairs, toward where my Mom and Dad were patiently waiting.
"Took you long enough! Not very excited for our first day, are we?"
My Dad joked at me with a wide smile on his face.
"You'll be just fine, honey. There's nothing to worry about."
My Mom had tried to comfort me as she patted the empty seat next to her.
I sat down and dug into my plate of breakfast.
I felt something cold and wet touch my head causing me slightly flinch.
"Someone forgot to wash up this morning. Looks like our little boy is still a bit sleepy."
My Mom had since gotten up from her seat and wetted her hands to fix my hair.
As she stated, my dazed self had walked straight past the bathroom and directly downstairs.
My bedhead was very apparent as bits of my hair spiked outwards as if I were a porcupine. My face was a mess too as I had unconsciously decided to forgo washing it.
I felt my Mom's fingers run through the strands of my hair as she studiously worked towards tidying it up.
As she made the final adjustments she announced,
"All done!"
I heard a weird noise come from my Dad as he looked like he was about to burst out laughing.
Mom had done something to my hair and everyone could see it but me. I'll let it slide, for now, I'll just go check it out later.
I quickly finished my food, allowing enough time to clean myself up in the bathroom.
As I looked towards the mirror, it was like I had travelled back to the 50s as I sported a voluminous pompadour atop my head.
I felt blood rushing to my face as a sense of embarrassment overcame me for a moment.
Quickly recovering, I tamed my hair, tousling it back down into something messier.
It was neat enough that I could comfortably wear it in public, yet wild enough that I wouldn't look like a pompous jerk.
I splashed some water on my face as the refreshing feeling both cooled me off and prepared me for what was about to come.
Frankly speaking, I wasn't ready.
The one place that was arguably the cause of all my problems. Who in their right mind would want to go back?
I had hoped that this would be different, that it would be something new.
With mere hours standing between me and that god-awful place, I had to choose.
Go and move on from my trauma.
or
Stay home and live with neverending regret.
Well, if I put it that way, the answer is clear.
It seems even my subconscious wants to see me move past my former troubles.
"Lucas! Hurry up! It's almost time to go!"
My Dad called out to me from outside the house.
I slowly descended the stairs, prolonging each step I took. I arrived at the bottom and reached out for my shoes.
My arm froze. My hand shivered. My body refused to go further than it already had.
But why? I decided I would do it. This is what I wanted. This is what I needed.
A bead of sweat trickled across my cheek. I heard a voice echo in my mind.
"...You'll be fine, honey..."
"...There's nothing to worry about..."
In an instant, my fears faded away. I felt a familiar warmth surround me. Though it was faint, I could feel it heat me from the inside.
"Thanks, Mom."
I whispered to myself.
I slipped my shoes on and ran out the door.
The sun shone down on me. Its rays hit my face and I the heat emanating off of it was intense.
Despite that, no matter how warm the sun felt, at that moment, nothing felt warmer than those words.