[ Chapter II (2): "BACK TO THE PAST" ]
Michael felt himself getting splattered by the 120 km/h speeding truck, which is apparently carrying loads of candies— though the brand wasn't known to him, as he seen the front more than the side.
He wasn't dead yet, but his face hit the front of the truck so hard that his body couldn't feel the pain all the once. What truly did kill him though was when his body went under the truck, cut and turned to mush by the wheels. His consciousness fading full seconds later, which finally gave him the long awaited rest.
Or so he thought.
[ "A-AHHH!" ] Michael awoke, screaming like a banshee, as he felt every single pain that was done to him by that single truck— all at once, causing him to scream ever louder.
Though he doesn't understand it, he can still feel his limbs, his body, his eyes; which he then opened up as fast as he could, to see if he is still alive, or if he's now a measly wandering spirit. As some books say.
Surprisingly enough, he doesn't seem to be the latter. As he felt a gust of wind hit his face, feel the sheet covering his body, and see the white ceiling above, reminding him of a hospital or medical building.
Nothing concrete yet, so as to understand more his current predicament, that of supposed dead. He tries to rise up, while trying to ignore the prickly feeling all-around his body, and the migraine.
For a second he closed his eyes, feeling extremely exhausted as if he stayed up for 48 hours without a single nap in-between, a weird feeling, as he doesn't do that; he'll get killed by his father if he did try.
But he gained enough strength to stand up and observe the place he's in. From the stereotypical hospital bed, to the white curtains, and white paint on the wall and ceiling; Michael could guess that this may be a hospital, and that he's still alive.
Though he doesn't understand the part where he's wearing totally different clothes, civilian clothes he had never seen before, and not the supposed hospital gown. And also the fact that... did he shrunk?
[ "Did I shr- what...?" ] He was about to question the abnormality he was feeling, out loud as per habit, but then he heard a pipsqueak-like voice coming from his mouth. Totally not his original voice, [ "My voice, what happened to my voice!" ]
Michael tested a few more times by saying random words, and yes, his ears; if those ears are his original that is, didn't deceive him. His voice isn't his voice. And that his body is not his body. Explaining why he had grown shorter after the collision with the truck, and wearing now different clothes; clothes which he normally wouldn't wear.
[ "Oh no... Oh no, oh no... I really did die." ]
He either is in hell, suffering in purgatory, or that he now occupies a body of another; a body that is younger than his soul, as per what Wattpad, WebNovel, Novels and FanFictions had him believe. Panik!
Michael had never really been keen on the supernatural, resurrection and regression alike. Religious books are more on pass time for him, he reads them as to understand the reasoning for the believers; never really to attain some sort of gift after death.
He never really tried to be a good person, or be an evil person for 21 years. He didn't do nothing, he stayed as he is, did what he wanted and could; those he doesn't want, he didn't do. It was that simple.
And most religious books, 9 out of 10 at the least would tell that he isn't a great person— someone who lived only for himself, selfish in short. Yet, why did the deity above, or wherever he may be, gifted him with another life. Totally bizarre.
He opened up the curtains, swinging it to the side as he now was faced with the layout of the room. Pretty spacious, but in comparison to hospital rooms, it's small. And the appearance it gives is more school related, than what a ward would look like.
For a moment he scanned the place, glancing at key items like for example the eye chart on the corner of the room, at the cheap model skeleton, and other beds which are unoccupied. Then his eyes landed on the open door, wherein someone was getting scolded.
A lanky kid, light brown moppy hair with blue-eyes, which then widened in recognition as he spotted Michael— [ "He's awake!" ] He pointed directly, which made even Michael confused; [ "Is he pointing at me? Do I know this kid...?" ]
Hundreds of questions flooded his mind, some normal and confused, to outright absurd theories. But none of them was answered, as he is at the moment confused by the predicament he finds himself in.
[ "Uhh, hi?" ] So he instead shyly waved.
[ "Mom- mom, Michael's awake!" ] The kid pointed again, before then getting hit in the head by a hard knuckle tap; an action done by someone unseen to Michael. [ "I'm serious mom, he really is awake! Look!" ]
[ "Axl you better not be making this u-" ] And appeared, poking out from the side of the door was a woman— same hair color as the kid, wrinkled face. Expression stern which then turned soft as it landed on Michael, who was pointing to himself. [ "Oh hi sweetie, does your head still hurt?" ]
[ "I-I... no...?" ] Yes, it absolutely does. Unbearable, luckily it's just a lingering feeling. He doesn't want to say yes, as to not make the other worry; the said other being someone he doesn't really know.
[ "I'm-I'm doing alright, ma'am." ] So as to not be killed, maybe, or arouse any suspicion, Michael stood still. Even when the said friendly "mother" approached him semi-passive-aggressively. Worried...? Huh?
He checked out the height of the other person, and noticed that she's taller. Confirming his theory about him now occupying another body, a younger one. And while he was doing that, he was suddenly hugged by her; an unexpected bear huge, which he couldn't pry off.
[ "I'm glad you're okay, sweetie. Your mother would have killed me if something wrong had happened to you." ] She said, releasing him from her grip, before then checking his forehead using the back of her hand. [ "I am so-so-so-sorry, very sorry about what my son did. Axl, apologize." ]
Smiling sheepishly, Michael doesn't know who these two are. But it seems this Axl fellow, her son, is closer to his age than she is to him; and that this kid may have done something to him, thus the apology.
[ "I'm sorry, bud, I didn't know you'll actually believe my jok- awh, okay, okay" ] Axl was pulled by the ear, which made him behave and word his apology better— [ "Okay, alright. I'm... sorry... about the prank and for, you know, being a... jerk." ]
The last part was barely audible, coming off as a murmur. Which received a stern glare from the older woman, [ "Axl, you...!" ] About to reprimand her troublemaking son more, she paused, as she noticed the confused gaze of Michael; which is different from the usually easy-going, happy-go-lucky gaze that he has; this caught her attention.
[ "Sweetie, is everything alright? Any lingering pain from the fall?" ] She went and tried looking for anything that may be out of the ordinary, but noticed none, other than the confused stare she's receiving from Michael. [ "Talk to us." ]
[ "I..." ] For a second he stared at the face of Axl and the unnamed woman, both of which stranger to him; perhaps someone the original owner of the body knows, but that's not him. So he with a little bit of contemplation, tells the truth. [ "I don't remember who you guys are..." ]
[ "I'm sorry, I think I hit my head in the fall." ] He added, seeing their bewildered expression and stiff movements.
[ "Oh no..." ] The unnamed woman furrowed her brows, as she then scanned for any telltale signs of lying. Perhaps his way of hiding from the shame he may have felt from his stunt, or possible punishment.
But no matter how hard she tries on spotting any lies, an ability she honed through years of motherhood seems to be of no use. As the child seems to be more confused rather than lying. [ "Oh dear..." ]
[ "But wait, you didn't hit your head. I caught you, see, look!" ] Axl spoke up, showing his arms to Michael and his mother— the former having no idea, but slowly piecing together everything, as he remains silent. [ "It was reddened earlier, but now... I really did catch you though." ]
[ "Axl, are you sure Michael didn't hit his head?" ]
[ "Mom, I'm sure, 100% not lying." ] Axl gave a thumbs up to his mother, panicked really, not wanting to get punished further.
After some serious thought, the unnamed woman, who's friendly in the eyes of Michael stared at her son— before then looking at him, deep in thoughts. [ "Then you really do have amnesia." ]
In hearing that Axl became scared for his life, already mentally preparing himself for a round of scolding by his parents. And in saying that, the unnamed woman became slightly saddened, feeling guilty.
But out of them all, the most unique is Michael— still named Michael in this world, though he doesn't know what his surname may be— as he is smiling, his alibi for future integration into this new life being successful. [ "Yeah, sad, I guess I really do have amnesia." ]
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[ FUN FACT: "Amnesia, or memory loss, can be caused by two main categories of events. The first is neurological damage to the brain, and the other is psychological trauma. The most common physical causes are head injuries (concussions), stroke, and conditions that may result from thiamin deficiency (often relates to alcoholism); emotional shock or extreme stress can also lead to dissociative amnesia." ]
[ 11/21/2025 ]
[ 11/22/2025 ]