Work Text:
The friends and family of Auran Lauss sat, still and sad and horrified, as they listened to the doctor prattle. They felt sick as they listened to the diagnosis.
It was common knowledge that people were regularly reincarnated, but now Auran was one of the rare few who recalled their past life’s memories. The human mind could not handle all of the information and the emotions attached to each memory and, as in Auran’s case, would put them in a temporary memory coma.
Finally, the doctor stopped and fixed a steely eye on them. “People do not just collapse into a memory coma out of the blue. Mr. Lauss would have been experiencing flashbacks from his previous life beforehand. The reason why he is in this situation may be because he has suffered some sort of trauma in his memories and his brain has shut down while he deals with it. Do you, any of you, know or have seen evidence of Mr. Lauss having any trauma bad enough that he would shut down over it?”
A chorus of despondent “no’s” and a couple of hours later had one of Auran’s closest friends picking up the comatose man’s letters to his deceased younger sister. Auran had started writing letters to her back in middle school, as a way to deal with the grief of her death, and had never really fallen out of the habit. Everyone who knew Auran intimately knew that he told her things that he never told anyone else in those letters, which were scribbled on anything from computer paper, to the blank sides of bookmarks, to the margins of his Criminology notes. Hopefully, he’d told his sister everything they needed to know now.
As it turned out, the first letter did deal with his past self’s memories, but it was dated six months beforehand.
***
Dear Aubrey, Oct. 24, 2004
I had that dream again, but it was…different. I’m standing on the outskirts of my village, but I’m not that scared boy who watched the Hoppington sheriff “arrest” everyone within it. No, I’m a grown man in this dream, and I’m pointing a sword at the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
She’s got blond hair like my previous self’s little siblings, Akila and Raia. And when I say that it’s like theirs, I mean that it’s like theirs – it’s blond but it’s been bleached white by the sun. She’s oddly pale, though. For her hair color, I would’ve expected her to have a tan. She’s dressed in a beige linen dress that ends just above her knees. It’s torn and ripped in places, and both her arms and legs are bare of clothing. I can’t quite remember what I said to her, but since I’m fairly sure women weren’t supposed to show that much skin back then, I may have been telling her to get dressed.
Or perhaps, to get out of the village because, after all, it’s not polite to walk on someone’s grave. Remember Aubrey, the Hoppington sheriff “arrested” everyone in it and he wasn’t too fond of taking prisoners. There is a limit to how far an eight year old can drag an entire village worth of corpses.
I think she may have been a slave – they had slaves back then, didn’t they? She’s frightened and quivering, and I remember equating her to a newborn fawn or a frightened rabbit. When I stepped forward to pull her away from the village gate, she flinched and seemed surprised that all I’d done was tug on her arm.
She had the prettiest green eyes in the world, Aubrey. They were like emeralds, like jade. I wonder what happened to her…
Love, Auran
Dear Aubrey, Oct. 31, 2004
I saw her again! I think it was a continuation right from where the last dream left off – I’m pulling her into what I’m pretty sure is my house. Our voices are a little clearer now, but I still haven’t caught her name. I told her that since I spared her and she was a slave-girl, she could help keep my home clean. I’d be mad at myself for being so mean to her, but I remember that the alternative for captured runaway slaves is death, so that was probably better for her. I was telling her what she could and could not touch when my alarm blared and I woke up.
Hey Aubrey, do you think she even had a name? I’ve read some literature where slaves aren’t even addressed by name, just by their status in society. I have a feeling that I’m going to be dreaming of her more often, so I’m going to need a name to refer to her by. I can’t keep calling her ‘Slave-girl’ after all. Since I likened her eyes to jade, do you think I should call her that until I remember what her real name is? I think I will. It’s certainly pretty enough to fit her.
Love, Auran
Aubrey, Nov. 2, 2004
I’m worried. You know how habits and personality traits bleed over during the memory recovery process? I think that that’s happening to me. My past life was a thief from a thieves village, and today I almost pickpocketed my best friend! His wallet was just sticking out of his back pocket and I wanted so badly to just take it. I had to leave the room just to stop myself from doing so! What am I going to do, Aubrey?
Auran
Aubrey
I think I failed my test today. Jade sang a song in my last dream, and it repeated itself in my head until I couldn’t think of anything else.
Auran
Dear Aubrey and Akila Nov. 16, 2004
Happy birthday, Akila! Or belated birthday since I just remembered that yesterday was yours, and you can thank Jade for that. She asked my past self why I was moping around and when I told her what the significance of yesterday was, she made me celebrate instead of being grouchy.
Did either of you two know that she can bake a cake? It tasted so good; I swear I could still taste it when I woke up! It was a little flat, literally, but it’s not like she had a whole lot of…uh…whatever it is that makes cakes rise. I’d say yeast, but I think that’s just for bread. Honestly, I’m amazed that she was able to bake one with so little to work with.
I have work and then some classes to go to now, but maybe while I’m getting groceries after class, I’ll get some cupcakes and celebrate.
Love, Auran
Dear Aubrey and Akila Nov. 19, 2004
I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed before! My past self finally got around to getting Jade some decent clothes, and I really didn’t need the memory of stealing about thirty pairs of various women’s underwear in different sizes. I suppose that I should be glad that three of them fit her because I don’t want to remember getting more…uh…unmentionables for her to try on. Even my past self was embarrassed about it! We both felt kind of bad for leaving her clothes problem alone for so long because – and I swear I didn’t look; I just saw her carrying them out with the rest of the laundry! – the ones she’d been wearing until then were getting kind of threadbare.
I’m kind of really glad you two aren’t here right now since I don’t think I could look any woman, much less my baby sisters, in the eye after that ordeal… You know what? This is really embarrassing. I’m just going to shut up now.
Love, Auran
Raia, Nov. 26, 2004
I feel awkward writing this to Aubrey or Akila since it’s more guy stuff. Yesterday, I went over to one of my friends’ apartment for Thanksgiving, and this commercial came on featuring this girl with – actually, maybe I should spare you the details since you’re four… Anyway, it was basically just five bachelors acting like hormonal teenagers and making immature comments. Then, one of my buddies spoke up and said he asked out this girl who’s in some of his classes, and asked us what he should do when he takes her out on a date next weekend. He said that he’d give her flowers, but he’s worried that it’ll be cheesy, and anyway she’s studying Botany to be a botanist. After he confessed that he’s afraid he’ll get her something that means something bad in flower language, or whatever it is botanists learn about in class, I offered him a suggestion.
Here’s where it gets really bad, Raia: I mentioned Jade’s favorite flowers. I’ve been trying so hard to keep the people and things from my last life and this one separate and I nearly gave it away! I’ve even managed to get the pickpocketing and lock picking down to where the only things I can’t stop myself from taking or opening are locked restroom doors and unimportant objects like pencils and the occasional paperclip! I mean, I know I can tell them, but what if they don’t want to have anything to do with me ever again when they find out what my previous self did for a living? And what about my job? My career will be ruined if anyone finds out that I’m a compulsive thief! Oh Raia, I hope they never learn…
Love, Auran
Dear Aubrey, Akila, and Raia Dec. 13, 2004
So, remember how Jade was my housekeeper? And how I sort of talked about her to my friends? Well, she had this certain way of arranging the furniture and when I invited a friend over, he took one look at my home and told me that I’d changed where I put everything. Apparently I’ve been moving my furniture around to match how she kept it. I hadn’t even noticed that I was doing that.
I’m really starting to worry that the memory bleed-over is going to…overtake me. Sometimes the bleed-over makes people take on the personality and characteristics of their past selves, and their past selves don’t always act like they do. I’ve looked it up; there are instances where the bleed-over has made somebody become so different that they’ve ostracized themselves from everything and everyone that mattered to them beforehand! I’m worried that the whole moving-furniture-to-suit-Jade’s-tastes is an indicator that I’m losing myself to my past life.
Love, Auran
Dear Aubrey, Akila, and Raia Dec. 21, 2004
I shoplifted today. I was Christmas shopping for my aunt and uncle when I saw something similar to what I gave Maria. I didn’t even stop to think. I just…took it. And when I got home, I pulled it out and called out to Maria, and told her I got something for her. It took me at least a minute to realize that this was real life and that I wasn’t my past self! A minute! It’s never taken me that long, and I’ve never just forgotten who I am before. This is bad…
Recently, I’ve been dreaming that I’ve been stealing things to give to Maria– sort of like how a guy will get things for his girlfriend – and when I forgot myself in the store, I copied what I’d been doing in my memories. That’s all. I only took one thing, and that’s it. And I can pinpoint why and when I took it. Well, sort of. The why’s a little more complex than that.
To be honest, it wasn’t even like I’d just forgotten who I was, it was like…I knew I was Auran and that I was shopping for Christmas gifts. I still knew who I was and what I was doing when I picked up that pocket mirror. It just felt…right, like taking it and putting it in my pocket and walking out with it was perfectly normal, like it wasn’t wrong at all. When I was doing that, it seemed like a fact of life: I was Auran, I was Christmas shopping, and I was stealing something for Maria. There was no more emotion attached to the action than there would be to say that I have brown hair.
But I can’t steal! I can’t be a thief; moral obligations aside, I’m taking Criminology! I can’t be a thief in my line of work – in any job that’s grounds to fire you, and it’s especially worse when you’re studying to be a police officer! I’ve tried to stop when it was just little things, but it’s getting worse – just look at the shoplifting! I can’t stop, I keep taking things –
I just got an alert from my phone. I have to get to work. Here’s to hoping that I don’t take anything from there.
Love, Auran
P.S. In case I didn’t mention it earlier, I finally found out what Jade’s real name is: it’s Maria! Now, if only I could remember what mine was back then…
Aubrey, Akila, Raia
I mentioned earlier that my past self’s getting things for Maria, kind of like a boyfriend would, right? I think I did that because I was in love with her back then.
Auran
P.S. I think I might still be. Is that weird?
Dear Aubrey, Akila, and Raia Jan. 29, 2005
I got her a ring. I got Maria ring. I can’t believe it. I mean – I know my past self was in love with her, since I remember that I went through all the trouble of stealing pretty things for her to marvel over, like noblewomen’s dresses and jewelry…but still. I didn’t think that I’d actually work up the nerve to get Maria an engagement ring. Don’t get me wrong; I’m really happy about it! It’s just…wow. I think I might be in shock. But I’m also really, really happy.
I wonder when I proposed. Do you think she said yes? What kind of wedding do you think we had? What kind of dress did she wear, what kind of flowers did we use, and what kind of food did we have? Did – do you think we got married at a church? I know that as a runaway slave-girl and an orphaned thief, we probably didn’t have any grave markers, but do you think that some old church might have a record of our marriage? I think I’d like to look into it, even if the chances are pretty slim that I’ll find anything. We did live in medieval times, after all. Still…I can’t wait to find out what her response was.
Love, Auran
Aubrey, Akila, Raia Feb. 3, 2005
I can’t believe – She didn’t even … Why then? Why at that moment? Just when I finally proposed to her…
I took her out to her favorite place in the forest. It’s this little glade, with a pond with water lilies dotting its surface smack dab in the center of it. Deer, rabbits, and all kinds of forest creatures come here to drink. It is – was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, both in this life and the last.
I took her down there, got on one knee and proposed. And just when I’d handed her the ring…just when she’d been about to respond… A deer ran past us. Not even half a second later, an arrow burst partway through her chest – through her heart – oh, God there was so much blood…
Just when she was about to answer me, some hunter who couldn’t aim right killed my Maria, my love…
She didn’t even get to respond! I didn’t…couldn’t save her. She just…died in front of me and I didn’t do anything to help her…
Auran
Aubrey, Akila, Raia Feb. 5, 2005
My grades are slipping and everyone is worried about me…but I don’t care. My Maria is dead and it feels like everything else just pales in comparison. I walk through my apartment and everything from where the furniture is to the flowers on the counter to the knickknacks I collected for her reminds me of Maria.
Logically, I know that I’m spiraling into depression, which could cause me to fall into a memory coma, but…I don’t care. My Maria is gone, and I’m never going to see her again in my dreams. Isn’t that all that matters?
Auran
Aubrey, Akila, Raia Feb. 9, 2005
My friends and family tried to stage an intervention today; they tried to take me to therapy but…I didn’t tell anyone what was wrong. I couldn’t tell someone who wouldn’t understand, and how would they understand? They don’t know what I’m going through…
Auran
Akila, Raia, Aubrey
I believe I may be going insane with grief. But then, as I said so many centuries ago, what use is sanity if by insanity I can see my beloved again?
Auran Alek