Don’t you just love that moment of returning consciousness when you wake up?

It’s a little shock, followed by a moment of snoozing.

Shortly after comes the feeling that something isn’t right, you wake up a little more and figure out things are okay after all, and return to peaceful snoozing.

Not today. Not fucking today.

Oh sure, most of it was the same as every other time, but then I realized that what I saw was not my nightstand, nor the cabinet on the other wall.

From what I could see I was in a hospital room.

I was drunk yesterday but not to the point that I blacked out.

I remember standing up from behind my computer at two in the morning, walking to the toilet and emptying my bladder while leaning on the wall.

Heck, I even remember crawling up the stairs and into bed next to my wife. Did I have an accident overnight?

I tried to get up on my elbows, only to be shocked that they were not where I expected them to be.

I moved my hand up to my face and smashed it against my nose.

The big shock came when I tried to move my arm again, more careful this time, and saw a little hand.

A baby’s hand. What was this?

I tried to talk and all I could manage was a soft cry, almost a whimper.

I screamed and the cry got louder, but this was not my voice.

My heart felt like an ice cold hand took hold of it and my throat froze up to the point that I could not swallow.

For a moment I believed I was in a nightmare and could wake up every second now, but none such thing happened.

I tried to get up but kept failing time after time. I tried to roll around and kick but my legs were firmly bound inside a blanket.

At last, I kept screaming. I screamed till my throat hurt and my eyes were full of tears.

I don’t know for how long I screamed but after some time I saw a nurse walking towards me.

As she came closer I stopped screaming and she started talking:

“Hey buddy, what a smart little fellow you are! Are you hungry? Let’s go see your mother!”.

My surroundings began to move and it took me a moment to realize I was actually in a baby bed on wheels, a plastic tub with a mattress in it.

We drove past other little beds on wheels and into a long hallway.

We were stopped a few times by people telling me that I was cute but finally we entered another room where I saw a big bed, and two people sitting next to it, talking to the person in the bed.

“Hello mommy, look who is awake!” the nurse proclaimed and everybody turned heads.

She lifted me out of my plastic prison and up to the bed, and for the second time in my life I saw my mother for the first time.

Only this woman was not my mother, and who were those other people?

The man and woman seemed to be in her thirties and there was a girl that seemed to be 4 or 5 years old.

But still, the woman spoke to me with a loving voice:

“Is my little boy awake? Yes? What a cute little boy you are!” and than almost without interrupting turned her head towards the man and said:

“Do you see how much he looks like your father Ben? He’s clearly going to be a real Ansley!”.

Ansley? I never heard that name before.

Who were these people, and did I really look like them?

How could that even be possible?

I was Austin Solomon and I had been Austin Solomon for my whole life!

I could feel the panic returning and as I tried to talk I started crying again.

But before my it could peak to the level it did before, she held me up and looked me in the eyes:

“What’s up little boy? Are you hungry?”.

Without hesitation she opened the hospital dress and drew me close to one of her breasts.

Startled I tried to back out but I had nowhere to go. Firmly she pushed my mouth against the nipple and in a reflex I drunk.

It was oddly comforting. It felt like it was everything I needed and after a few moments I heard the talking fading away and my eyelids going heavy. I fell asleep.

And now I am here. Again, it must be a dream or a nightmare, but it feels like I’m fully awake.

I cannot move, none of my limbs respond and I cannot turn my head. But but I can move my eyes around and all I see is a small room.

The walls look like poorly painted wood, and yet none of it feels real. At the wall opposite me there is a red door, made of metal.

In front of me is a little table and chair that look like they came out of an old classroom.

The door swings open and a man in a suit with a briefcase walks in. He closes the door without saying a word, walks up to the table and puts the briefcase on top of it.

He opens it, takes out some paperwork, closes the briefcase and sits down.

“Solomon? Austin Solomon?” He sounds bored. He sounds like he has been in this situation a million times.

I respond: “Yes. Please, can you tell me what is going on? Is this a nightmare?” - “Please hold your questions for later mister Solomon. I will explain what is happening, but first we need to sort out some paperwork.”

I start getting angry. Who is this jerk? Clearly he knows what is going on!

“Paperwork?? Are you insane? Return me to my home man, my wife, my bed, everything! Give me back my life!” - “I’m sorry mister Solomon, I’m afraid that is not possible. You died last night from a cerebral infarction.

Your wife woke up because of your spasms and she called an ambulance.

They got you in to the hospital in under one hour and tried thrombolysis but the tissue plasminogen activator was not as effective as it should be due to your high alcohol consumption over the last months. You never even woke up.

If you want I can refer you to article STROKEAHA.114.007143v1 which describes the effect of alcohol on thrombolysis. Now, if you please hold until we’re done with the paperwork here I’m more than happy to explain the situation and answer your questions. You should be happy to be here anyway.”

Article? Happy? What the hell was this guy talking about?

He kept sounding just as bored, as if he had gone trough this so many times, that he did not care for the emotions of, what, his clients?

I had no idea why I was here and what my role was.

His bored behavior calmed me down a little because well, if he is used to it, then there must be some sense behind this, right?

“Okay, what is this paperwork, mister ehh, what was your name again?” -

“I believe I did not introduce myself mister Solomon, but you may call me Adam.

Thank you for working with me here. In short, you have been revived. Try to take more care of yourself in this one.

Now, since this is your first time, you will have to sign this disclaimer that you will tell no one about this nor write anything about your experience down nor record it in any other way. Also you are not allowed to contact former friends and family, not even your wife, in any way.

We will try to direct their and your lives in a way that you will likely never meet in person with anyone you personally knew before, but in case it accidentally does happen, you must act as if you meet them for the first time.”

Revived? This is getting weirder and weirder.

And who is he to tell me not to contact my wife? Of course I’ll contact my wife! I love her!

“But why should I sign this? What if I contact her anyway? I love her! You can’t take her away from me!”

He sighs, takes of his glasses and starts to clean them. Puts them back on.

“Mister Solomon, please try to understand that I took no one away from you. You died. Possibly related to your extensive intake of alcohol lately.

If only for that reason you are to blame and other than that it was the way of life.

You should be pleased with the extra life you are getting. There are not a lot of people who are given this chance but most of them turned out really well.

Some of the best minds of the past era’s you might say. People like Plato, Buddha, Socrates, Shakespeare, Newton, Einstein have been before you.

Obviously a lot of the current leaders of the world in politics, industry and other professions are as well rebornists but we never disclose names of people who are alive now. Still, some of them have been revived multiple times and carry the memories of generations.

The reason that you may not disclose information about this process is that there is no way to prove it to others than your relatives. However, they can never love you in the way they did, and before you grow old enough to contact them their lives have changed.

Right now your wife is arranging your funeral together with your good friend Jake, and four years from now they will start living together as it is something that brought them close. If you would meddle in this business, as a child, can you see what would happen? Once you made her believe that it really is you, what can she do? You are a child and she is happy again.

Of course your photo will still be on the cabinet, and both she and Jake will look at it regularly since you are missed. On your birthday and the day you died they will even burn a candle in front of it, but, eventually they will both realize that you are gone forever. You are missed, you will never be forgotten, but you have no place anymore in their lives. If you go ahead and contact them anyway, we have no other option but immediate termination of your life before you can reveal any sensitive information. We will see ahead of time if you are planning to do this and warn you up front, but if you happen to go trough with it, all we can do to stop you is termination.”

This is nuts. I feel the panic rising again but I hold it back. So I died and have been given a new life?

He holds up his hand: “Mister Solomon, please read the rules of engagement contract so we can get this over with. After that I’m ready for all your questions.” He picks up a paper and holds it in front of me. I read:

Rules of engagement to be signed on first revival. This set of rules is made between GAEA and the person formerly known as Austin Solomon, now newborn in the Ansley family, from now on referring to as ‘the rebornist’. 1) The rebornist hereby states to never contact friends, relatives, partners or other close entities from any former life. 2) The rebornist hereby states to never talk to anyone about the process of being revived. 3) The rebornist hereby states to never write down or record in any other way information about the process of being revived. 4) The rebornist hereby states to accept his new family as his or her own and live in their midst as their child. 5) The rebornist hereby states to understand that living by these rules is in the best interest of his own life, and accepts that his life can be terminated immediately in case he fails to follow these rules. To sign this document, please speak out loud 'I understand and accept these rules’.

“Okay, I’ve read it. What if I don’t accept?”

He takes the paper down and without a blink he says: “Then you will die. For now you are a baby sleeping in his mothers arms. If you refuse to accept this chance for a new life, you will die of natural causes and not only give up your own life but also bring a lot of sadness and grief to a young family. If you have any more questions, please ask them now.”

So this is it. The final chance for a new life. A life where I already know about life, and thus can use this to advance in a way others often can’t. I can accept this and be a newborn baby. I would go to school in a few years and because of what I know I will be a great student. I possibly can become anything I want. I have a clean slate and I can make a fresh start. Didn’t I always dream of this? It’s not the way I expected it to be, but a new life to start, without learning the lessons? This could be an amazing chance. How did I get this life anyway?

“Mister ehh, Adam? How did I get this life anyway? And who is GAEA? Who are you anyway? Are there more of you?” -

“You got this life because GAEA decided you had potential for this world. Some would call it natural re-selection.

Your upcoming life will prove if you have or not, and if you are an asset to society you will most likely have another one. GAEA (pronounced Gaia) is the spirit of our earth. It is well known in human tales and myths because in the past, people actually managed to speak about this process. Luckily we have advanced since then. We are the guardians of GAEA. We have no name except that we all call ourselves Adam towards humans. We have no individual memories or thoughts but we are connected to the spirit of GAEA. Because of this we know everything, all the time. There is no set number of us, but more or less instances of us will be created when needed. This room, my appearance, the language we use and everything else except the rules of engagement are a product of your own subconsciousness that is being fed by GAEA.”

So this is what it comes down to eh? I accept and walk away, live my new life and be great at it. Not accept and what, I die?“ - "Yes. You die.” - “And what happens then?” - “That is yours to find out once you die. I’m here to help you get through the revival process, I’m not here to tell you about the afterlife. This should stay a secret to mankind forever, because it is what drives their will to live.”

So I guess I better accept, if I want to die, all I have to do is decide to talk about this. “Okay, show me the paper” He picks it up again and holds it in front of me. “I understand and accept these rules”

The paper changes color and turns into stone, and the last line changes into:

Read and accepted by the rebornist. Set in stone for eternity.

He takes the slate away and puts it in his briefcase, together with the rest of what is apparently my dossier. “Thank you mister Ansley. Enjoy your new life and make the best out of it.”

The room slowly turns dark and the temperature seems to go up.

Don’t you just love that moment of returning consciousness when you wake up?

It’s a little shock, followed by a moment of snoozing.

Shortly after comes the feeling that something isn’t right, you wake up a little more and figure out things are okay after all, and return to peaceful snoozing.

I’m safe. I’m safe and sound on my mothers belly, wrapped in a warm blanket.

And for the first time in my life, I have nothing to worry about.

Nothing at all.