Wait, huh? Black? What happened to the static? Wasn't I just in a void of static nothingness? Now everything is dark! Black! Darkness! Oh how I missed the dark! I will never be afraid of you ever again! I wish I could kiss this blackness! So what does this mean now? Does this mean I've been reincarnated and I'm in my new mother's womb? But wait, when did the static turn to blackness? I wasn't even paying attention. I was caught up in the memory of my time in the 1700s as a young child about to die of typhus, I think. That was not fun.

So, darkness now. Does that mean I have a body now? Let's see... can I open my eyes? Eyes, OPEN!

Ooooh, I have eyelids?! That's a good start! Oh wait, am I looking up at a ceiling? It's hard to see, but the ceiling looks to have a sort of grain to it. Like it's made of straw. A thatch roof? Seriously? Did I go back in time or something?

I turn by head, long hair falls over my eyes. I'm not a baby at least. Looking down at my body, I see I am not covered in a blanket or anything. I'm simply wearing a cloth nightgown. So I was reborn as a girl. But I wasn't born. I usually remember being born, don't I? No wait, now that I think on it, I don't. I don't remember a single time where I was a baby or toddler. Not even dying as one at birth. Thinking back throughout history, there should have been a lot of those. I do remember dying young though, but never too young. I guess the personality and soul don't develop in a body until a few years after birth. At least that explains the gaps in years I couldn't account for between some lives.

Okay, hold on. Why do I remember my previous lives? I don't remember knowing I was reincarnated. I never acted in a way that demonstrated I had retained memories from a previous life in any of my lives. So why now? Is this body special or is it because I spent so long in the static recalling previous lives?

Let's see... arms, check, legs, check. Come on, sit up. Muscles, move! Why is this body so sluggish? And my eyes are only halfway open. Come onnn, moooove, collapse. This new body is so weak. I don't remember ever being so weak. Well, I did just wake up. Maybe if I can roll off the bed I can move around a bit? It's still dark outside the window. Hm, a nice glass window framed in stone. All of the walls are made of stone, too.

Alright, time to rooooooooll... I turn slowly in bed. I feel the furs that make up the cushion on the bed rub against the skin of my arm. My body is coated in a thin film of sweat that stuck the nightgown to my body. I rolled again and finally fell out of bed. I hit my head hard on the dusty stone floor and lost vision. Everything went dark. Seriously? I knocked myself out by falling out of bed? Am I that weak or is the gravity really that strong here? Well, I am just a child. Hopefully nothing broke, my mother will find me, and tend to my injury. Ahh, for now let me just. Hold on, if I am knocked out, how am I still conscious?

Focus... focus... Eyes, find the eyes again and open them! Wait, they're already open? My vision is clouded with tears, but I think I'm sitting on the floor crying. Ears... why can't I hear anything... There!

"-aaaaaaaaaah... Guaaaaaaaaah" I'm crying by myself? Shouldn't I have control over that? I noticed something move. Someone opened the clay door and is walking over to me. She lifted me up effortlessly and sat on the edge of the bed with me on her knee.

She started rubbing my head and whispered soft words to me. Yes, this must be my mother. She was wearing a similar nightgown. It was hard to see since it was so dark in the room, but I swear I can see through the cloth. She's not wearing a bra! Mother! Have some modesty in front of your little girl! I hope in the very least you're wearing underwear or a loin cloth under that. Are my clothes just as sheer is that? I can't control the body anymore, or I would check. I hope this is just lounging wear and I wasn't born into a culture that doesn't wear tops. I will kill myself if I did. I swear. I have to have standards!

With my eyes slowly starting to clear up, I can see Mother's image clearer. Beautiful green eyes bore into me. And silky, albeit a little messy from bed head, black hair trailed from her head. I can't see much more because of the low light level, but I suspect she's quite pretty. And she looks young, her face still bears the slight roundedness of youth. I hope she doesn't use her looks to make a living. Some of my mothers in the past have been prostitutes and it always tore me up inside. They would always try to keep that part of themselves hidden from me, but I always found out eventually. Don't get me wrong, I still loved them, but it was hard to be around them when they came home in the early hours of the morning smelling like sweat and spent tissues. I won't go into any more detail for everyone's sake.

My body hugged Mother and buried my head in her chest. I could feel the soft hands rubbing by back and head tenderly. Slowly my eyes started to droop and close. I fell asleep in her arms. I could still feel her comforting me. Like it was more comfort for her than it was for me at this point. I've had those kind of mothers before. Where father either died or I was the child of a mistress and couldn't see my father. I was all that she had left. Huh, I even had fathers like that where mother died in childbirth and I was all they had of her. Times without photography and too poor for paintings. I wonder what I am for her.

She gently picked me up and placed me back onto the furs. I heard the clay door open and close along with the patting of her bare feet on the stone floor. Either I have been born in a very post-apocalyptic Earth or this is another world. With everything made of stone, I suspect we must live in a very warm and barren place. Ahh, that might explain the sheer clothing and the sweat. I couldn't feel the temperature right now though. It was weird. So far I've felt like I've only had partial control over my body. Like there was something else here fighting me. That doesn't bode well.

I'm going to relinquish control of the body for now. But I don't exactly feel tired enough to try to sleep. I wonder if I can somehow tap into the memories of this body and figure out where I stand here. I know I have never done something like this before, but this is an extraordinary circumstance. I will try to stay out of the subconscious for now. That's probably where I will meet the opponent in control of this body. It's probably dreaming. I don't want to have to fight for control of the body if I don't have to. So I need to soak up knowledge and fast.

The body's name is Celestine. Or, that's as close to English as I can convert it. Mother calls her Tina for short. She hasn't completely grasped the language either. No family name, so she and her mother are likely peasants. She's young. From what I can tell, she's only had two birthdays so far and they were FAR apart. I'll come back to that in a bit. I found a memory of her looking at her reflection in a piece of polished metal recently. She's got the same black hair as her mother, but unfortunately lacks her bright green eyes. She has vibrant brown eyes instead. And thankfully the sleepwear is not standard public clothing. It's just very light fabric because it is hot where they live and it's both uncomfortable to sleep in anything thicker and to sleep nude because of the furs that make up the bedding causing rash and itch when they rub on bare skin. The daily clothing isn't exactly modest, though. It's not uncommon for men to walk around topless with nothing but leather or fiber shorts. At least the women cover their chests. Mother dresses up Celestine in a simple spaghetti-strap sun dress with a straw hat wide enough to protect her shoulders. Mother, and most of the other women in town I assume, wear something akin to a peach bikini-shaped bra that is just thick enough to not show off the goods when they sweat. Over top this they wear pretty much anything from a sheer fabric top paired with a white opaque skirt or just simply pants like the men and nothing but the bra. As long as things are covered, no one really seems to mind. No black clothing though. Everything is either white, peach, tan, or leather.

Celestine has never been outside their city. But from the sweltering heat and the lack of anything green, I am guessing they live in a desert. Hence why the buildings are made of stone and thatch. No reason for anything elaborate like clay tiles to be made when it rarely rains. No trees but what can be imported for the richer inhabitants. And no buildings are made of just straight wood. That's a fire hazard in the desert.

I've been sitting here trying to piece together the world from her memories. Things are sporadic because she is just a child. But I believe the year is well over 365 days. The sun is also bright white in the sky. This planet's star must be both larger, hotter, and younger compared to Earth's sun for the year to be so much longer and still support life. I have more questions about the nature of this world, but those will have to wait. Celestine's memory is too limited. She's two of this world's years old. That much I know for sure. I am also grasping their language a bit, but we don't know enough to actually speak it fluently. She knows words, a fraction of the grammar, and the inflections. She's illiterate, though. I don't even know if this language has a writing system. It all depends on how advanced they are. I'll keep observing and trying to control the new body. I need to keep my presence on the down low, though. Maybe I can introduce myself to the other soul in the body as an imaginary friend. That might help me establish a relationship with her and it would be good to work together. For now, though, I will be silent.