My first life was nothing short of a badly written novel.

I was named December because I was born right on Christmas. A relief, honestly—thank God I wasn't named Christmas. I've been thankful for that every single day of my life.

I lived up to the festive spirit of my name. I lived my life like a piece of shit.

I partied everyday, lived like a useless piece of shit that contributed nothing to this world.

I was the embodiment of carefreeness.

Your standard run-of-the-mill rich, spoiled kid.

I was lucky enough to not only not be named Christmas but also be born with a silver spoon. The only son of the wealthy Everly family, owners of the Everly Group.

I was born with more cash than I could spend, more love from my parents I could bear, I had everything.

Born with everything I could ever want, all I did was party all day. My grades weren't horrible, perhaps because the work wasn't even tough.

I did nothing to repay my parents' love, perhaps I have only paid them in heartbreaks.

I was utter and complete trash.

I skipped their birthdays, skipped our family trips, did nothing to treasure our relationship, I would have rather spent time with people whom I barely knew than treasure our time.

But back then, to me, all was well. Life was good. I had heaps of money to spend on anything people could have dreamed of.

At least, that was until my parents died in a car crash during their vacation in Miami. That event spelled the end of my carefree, trashy life.

They left before I could tell them I loved them, tell them I was thankful for everything.

Thank them for their blessings, give them a hug, I couldn't even say a goodbye before their death.

I took them for granted, I never had a chance to tell them I loved them since I was 5, perhaps it was karma.

They say you only regret after you lost it all.

I missed them, but reality came rushing down.

I was a simple guy. All I ever wanted was to leech off my parents' money and success while living a carefree life.

That was the life I wanted, as long as I lived a lazy life I was going to be happy.

I would be happy even without them, why are they so naggy?

Was what I thought until they left, it was a slap on the face, I couldn't get over it.

I hated myself, for what I did, I never did anything worthy of them.

I was perhaps guilty.

But because of their early deaths, as the only son of the Everly family, I became the direct heir to the group.

And for me, it sucked.

I hadn't even gotten over the deaths of them before a mountain of responsibilities was thrown at my face.

My carefree life was over. I could no longer do as I pleased. I had a reputation to uphold, and life hit me like a truck—a wake-up call after wasting the first eighteen years of my life.

To someone who knew nothing about business, it was like handing the keys to a Ferrari to a newborn. Huge funds, huge life-changing projects—all of it fell into the hands of a clueless teenager.

Of course, an utterly incompetent CEO with zero experience became prey to the experienced shareholders and, of course, family.

It was utter hell. For a young, spoiled brat like me who knew nothing except how to play around and burn through my parents' money, I was powerless against those crazy bastards—or so I called them.

It was another day at the company, this time I was settling one of the investment projects I couldn't bother to remember.

I was walking towards the old car that my parents used to drive me around in when I was young.

I had never ever drived it to say the least, it was an old cheap car that was worth virtually nothing, compared to the rows of supercars in the garage it was nothing short of trash.

But perhaps I was feeling nostalgic recently, I had been going through their belongings, the old car, and even stumbled across the love letters of my parents from god knows how long ago.

It was funny, I had a few laughs at the cringe lines, yet perhaps the purpose of their death was to wake me up from this dream.

If only I could see them.

I sighed and closed my eyes, I wanted to cry, but I could already hear my father telling me men shouldn't cry and my mother rushing to ask me why I cried and comfort me.

But they were gone, forever.

I wish I could go to heaven, but with how I loved, how I did, hell seemed to be the place I would end up after I die.

"I wanna resign so badly," I muttered, this company was the biggest thing they left for me, but I couldn't care less, it was frustrating, arguing with the old geezers.

I wanted to sell all the shares my parents left for me, grab a quick buck and dip.

After all, 30% of the company was worth hundreds of millions.

Except I couldn't. My parents had left a will stipulating I had to hold the company for at least five years before I could sell the shares. A prayer, I suppose, that their useless son might gain some business knowledge along the way.

But perhaps the real reason I wanted to leave was the trace of them everywhere.

His office, the books he had there, a photo of us, an award from whatever place, was where I had to do all the work from now on.

I didn't want to see any of that, but I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.

How pathetic.

I sighed, as I opened the door via the car key, yes it was that old, a relic of the past.

And a bundle of memories.

I slipped in, closed the door and started the engine which was rough.

The car shakes horribly, and after ten seconds of loud engine failure notices, miraculously it started up, as always.

A stepped on the accelerator and it took off slowly but steadily, it felt nostalgic, those road trips in this car, perhaps simplicity is the best.

I put the phone on the seat on my right, and just minutes into the drive on the highway the notifications shot up.

I sighed, glancing at my phone. "Yep, more messages. Fuck."

Ever since the accident, every day brought more paperwork than I could count.

"How did Mom and Dad pull through this?" I wondered, while letting out another sigh.

The only question in my mind was how my parents ever found time for a vacation. If only they didn't go, would I still be like this?

"Yeah, if only…"

Lost in thought, I didn't realize I had been speeding on the wrong side of the road. It happened in a flash.

I crashed into a barrier, swerved out of control, and earned myself a one-way ticket to the afterlife.

My body went limp, and warmth fled as eternal cold set in. My life had ended—a full stop.

Life is fleeting, quick yet beautiful. Time always felt slow until I looked back. Only then did I realize what kind of life I had been living—a trashy life that only burdened others.

Exactly the way I liked it. A carefree life as a useless bum were the happiest years of my existence. I would have done anything to preserve them, but as life slipped through my fingers, I realized I had regrets.

I could barely see, but even a bum like me could figure out I was about to die. All I could make out was a sea of red lights flickering in the darkness—the taillights of the cars I had crashed into.

It was funny, how my parents passed on due to a crash, and so did I.

"It was an okay life." I muttered under my breath, not that anyone could hear me.

I was hoping to be able to go to heaven, perhaps for a while, just to catch a glimpse of my parents.

It was like a flash—the second my life lost light, both literally and metaphorically.

God gave me no time to rest. I could almost hear Him saying, "Youngling, you have no time to rest. Quickly reincarnate to God knows where."

In a flash of light, I ended up in the arms of someone who appeared to be the person who had just delivered me. Of course, there was a grueling process before this that I'd prefer not to narrate.

My hands felt sluggish, my eyesight was horrible, I could only see things in black and gray, it felt like those 90s movies my mother used to love, except I was viewing my surroundings in that 90s filter.

Am I colorblind?

But when the lady holding me hoovered her hand over me, I could see colour again?

Was it a fluke? Am I high?

Oh right back to the surroundings.

Okay, maybe I should—urine, feces, and blood covered the sheets, and I was far from clean. Slightly cleaner than the bed sheets, though, which seemed to have been sacrificed for my birth.

*"It's a boy, madam! A boy! The great Eostara must have shined on you!"* the midwife cheered loudly.

What is all that ruckus?

The others in the room clapped and hugged the nearest person. Great news, apparently, especially after a grueling six-hour battle to get me out of the womb.

I could see a woman lying down on a bed in front of me.

Up close, she was a beauty, to say the least—emerald eyes with gorgeous, silvery-white hair that cascaded to her waist.

Who is she?

Where am I?

Didn't I just die?!

The person who spoke just now spoke in a foreign tongue, she was cradling me with her arms as she chatted with the others in the room.

Were they speaking Russian? French? Chinese? Japanese? German? I had no clue. The only language I had ever learned was English, nothing more, nothing less.

Well, maybe there was that one Spanish lesson I took on a whim in high school before deciding it was too complicated.

Though it didn't feel like any of the languages, a dialect perhaps?

I laid limp in the midwife's arms, unable to see much of the room. All I could make out were the people to the right and, of course, that beautiful woman.

There were many standing in the corner with brown hair and amber eyes. His eyes were watery, but his face was written with relief and love.

Who is he?

I was afraid, who were they? Are they god? Or am I in hell?

But when I looked at my small hands, the blood on my hands and the sheets.

I already knew the answer.

I reincarnated, I knew it before that, it was as if the universe whispers to you, you have been reincarnated, live a good life.

But why am I not in a hospital? This doesn't look like Earth. What kind of hospital doesn't even have basic sanitation? And what are they saying?

Instead of the sterile white room of the hospital, I was in a wooden shack, without any medical equipment in sight.

The woman had a urgent and scared look on her face as she cried, *"Madam Irisa, is he normal? Is a baby that doesn't cry or move normal? Is my child dead?"*

I couldn't understand her words, but I could feel her desperation and helplessness. Was it because of me?

The midwife handed me to another woman and rushed to calm her, who was clearly frantic.

*"No, dear! You mustn't move! You just gave birth—you shouldn't exert yourself! My healing magic hasn't even started yet! Rest now. A baby that doesn't cry is special, but it doesn't mean anything. He's okay, you hear me?"* she said reassuringly.

I didn't understand the words, but something about her tone made me feel she was reassuring the lady.

Then I understood it.

I was dead, my memory or consciousness was transferred on to this body, a baby, thank god I skipped the womb part.

The woman is probably my mother.

And the people walking and talking were probably relatives or family members.

The room itself was a simple wooden shack—a single bed in the center, surrounded by people fawning over my mother.

Countryside family? I thought, is this some rural part of Europe? The people sure look European.

That was until I saw it.

A bunch of magic circles appeared around the midwife's hands. Green light shimmered as she hovered them over my mother's body, healing her instantly. Then she waved her hands over the bloodied sheets, and they were suddenly clean.

What the fuck just happened?

What was that green circle? How did all the blood and…stuff…disappear? How did her wounds heal so quickly?

My eyes widened, and my mouth hung open, caught in sheer shock and curiosity.

*"Look, madam! He's a curious one! He's healthy and well! So take your time and rest—you're still very tired. He's a curious one,"* the midwife said, leaving no room for argument, as she gently laid her down.

I didn't understand a thing, but she probably told her something about me.

My mother sighed in relief and fell asleep, what just happened?

I had more questions than answers.

Is this even earth? Was that magic? Did she just put her to sleep? What just happened?

So many questions and not a single bit of answers.

I was passed around like an object, from a man, to another man, why not a girl?

Finally, a girl, sighed looking at the little girl that was staring into me intently and a huge stupid smile plastered on her face.

She had brown hair and the exact same emerald eyes as my mother.

A relative? A sibling? I sure hope I retain my memories, she doesn't look all that smart, if stupidity was a virus, I would have been plagued long ago.

She made some stupid actions with a face, trying to cheer me up?

I let out a small laugh, but my baby instincts kicked in and I started to laugh hysterically.

*"Look dad! Ember is laughing!"* She exclaimed as she ran with me in her arms to the guy with brown hair, looking at them, they sure look quite similar.

I didn't understand what she said, but it must have been something to do with my reaction, although I would appreciate it if she didn't run around with me in her hands.

The man let out a warm smile, it was the kind of smile I saw from my parents when they were telling me off, or seeing me in a good mood.

His eyes were shining, it was the eyes of care and affection I hadn't seen in too long.

I couldn't control it, some liquid was flowing from my eyes, I couldn't hold it. How long has it been since I saw those smiles again? I couldn't hold it in, do I really deserve love again?

Will I not just throw it away again like the ungrateful shit I am? Am I sure I won't shatter their hearts like back then?

Am I sure I can be forgiven and receive love?

No.

I can't, I don't deserve it, I will just break their hearts won't I? So please, don't look at me with those loving eyes, I hate them.

But I couldn't hold it either, a huge stupid smile found its way back to my face, the smile covered my tears, even if I don't deserve it, maybe, just maybe I can indulge in it for a while?

Yeah, just a while.

A dream, I will wake up again, in hell.