Hey, it's me again, Maxwell. You're probably wondering how I got here. I mean, one moment I was sixteen, living through a nightmare of my own making, and the next, I'm seven years old again, waking up in the same room I once called home. The day I died—my parents gone, my life shattered—had been unbearable. I had thought I'd go to hell for their deaths, but when I opened my eyes this time, I was shocked to find I was back in my aunt's house, just a day after she'd gained custody of me.
At first, I could hardly believe it. The air felt different, lighter, almost as if it were offering me a second chance. But reality hit hard when I remembered why I was here. My aunt was about to rob me of everything my parents had left behind. Those assets, the house, the small inheritance meant to keep me safe—she'd lay her claim on them without a second thought.
The moment I gathered my wits, I bolted from the bed. My heart raced as I rifled through the desk where my aunt kept all the important papers as i recalled the memories of my past life. I could almost hear my aunt's laughter in the back of my mind, scheming her way into my future. When I finally found the documents proving my ownership, I felt a surge of triumph. I tucked the papers under my shirt, knowing I had to get out of here before she realized what was happening.
As I slipped out the door, I took one last look at the room that had once been my safe space but had now become my grave. I felt the chill of the outside air as I stepped into the streets, still wearing nothing but shorts and a thin shirt. It was cold, and I shivered, my body yearning for the warmth my parents had always provided.
I wandered aimlessly, memories of laughter and love haunting me. I remembered the way my mom would wrap me in blankets on cold nights, how my dad would sit by my bed, reading stories that made me feel safe. Now, I was nothing but a lost child, drifting in a world that felt impossibly large and unwelcoming.
Hours passed, and I found myself sitting under a large umbrella outside a café, the cold pavement biting at my skin. I hugged my knees, trying to keep warm. That's when I noticed an old man approaching, his face weathered but his eyes kind.
"Hey, kid," he said, settling beside me, unbothered by the curious glances from passersby. "What are you doing out here all alone?"
I instinctively pulled away, uncertainty flickering in my mind. Should I trust this man? But he didn't seem dangerous. He wrapped his coat around me, the warmth flooding in, easing the chill.
"Where's your family?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.
I hesitated, the lump in my throat tightening. "I lost them all... in an accident," I finally replied, my voice barely above a whisper. It felt strangely liberating to share my pain, even with a stranger. The old man didn't hesitate to sit beside me on the cold pavement though he looked quite well off.
"I understand," he said softly. "I lost my wife and son a long time ago. It's lonely out here, isn't it?"
His words resonated with me, stirring something deep within. I looked up at him, studying his face. "Do you talk to anyone you find on the streets?" I had learnt to become cautious and maintain my distance at times while living with that cunning woman of an aunt.
"Life has a way of taking what you love," he replied, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "But I try to find comfort in talking to others. It makes the loneliness a bit easier to bear."
My defenses had loosened up now and i felt myself opening up to the stranger soon. We spoke about simple things—what we liked to eat, the changing seasons, how the world felt like it was always in motion. As the conversation flowed, my caution began to wane. This man was just like me, battling his own demons.
"Listen," he said, leaning closer. "You shouldn't be out here. You'll freeze to death."
"I don't have anywhere to go," I admitted, my voice cracking under the weight of my vulnerability.
"Why don't you come home with me?" he suggested, his eyes lighting up with genuine hope. "I could use some company. It's just a small place, but you'd be warm there."
The offer hung in the air, both inviting and terrifying. Could I really trust him? The thought of returning to my aunt's house filled me with dread. I recalled her cold eyes and how she had treated me.
"Do you really mean it?" I asked, the words trembling on my lips. "I wouldn't be a bother?"
"Not at all," he assured me, his face beaming. "It's been too long since I've shared a meal with anyone. You'd be welcome."
I took a deep breath, weighing my options. The thought of warmth, safety, and companionship felt like a lifeline. "Okay," I finally said, my heart racing. "Can I stay the night?"
His smile widened, filling my heart with a flicker of hope I hadn't felt in ages. "Absolutely! Let's get you out of this cold."
As we walked side by side, the shadows of the city loomed around us, but somehow I felt lighter. Maybe this was my chance to rewrite my fate, to find warmth and love once more. Maybe, just maybe, I was stepping into a new beginning.