When Our Worlds Collide

Life No. 125

Evan.

Evan was like sunlight, like fire and rage mixed into one until everything became incoherent and resulted in a form that was now his. And I was nothing even close to that.

I was simply Malin, the girl who was given this power (more like curse, if I do say so myself) to have a life that was forever entwined with Evan’s.

I do not know when I started to consider him mine, when I started to think of us as one.

From the start it might have been like that, and I have only buried the feelings deep into the deep, dark crevices of my mind. Or, less poetically, it might have been simply Stockholm syndrome from being with him for so many lives that I had given up counting.

All I know is that he will never be separated from me, nor I from him. For whenever one of us dies, we end up in another place, another time from where we were. And we would end up there together, always finding each other even if we were oceans apart, even if we were years apart.

“A penny for your thoughts?” The deep rumbling of Evan’s voice was felt in vibrations as I scooted closer to his chest. He held me close to him, warming me in the cold snow that surrounded us.

I puffed another puff from my cigarette, face settling into a peaceful smile, “Nothing much, really.”

“Want to leave?” He asked me, an innocuous smile playing on his lips.

Stubbing my cigarette under my boots, I stood up and stretched, feeling the burn of barely used muscles in my body moving. Evan followed suit.

“Sure,” I reply while tying up my ginger hair into a bun.

He and I grabbed a gun from our backpack, shooting ourselves in the head with it. The world became black.

Life No. 34

I can’t. I can not handle this anymore. No matter how long I’ve been living, no matter how much things, good or bad, I have experienced, I cannot understand how people can be so cruel.

How can people stand someone who were made of the same bones, of the same flesh as they were dying on the ground like they were insects, disintegrating in front of their very eyes as if they were no better than a piece of meat?

I cried louder as I begged in front of the High Lady, “No, milady! I beg, have mercy on me!” I touched the part of her gown that touched the ground and kissed it.

My voice was high and frantic, my eyes wide and my face unnaturally gaunt from being starved practically this whole life.

“You peasant! You dare touch my skirt with your filthy hands!” The high lady screamed at my face, her skin flushed from anger and shaking.

I cried out louder, begging once more for her consideration, for her magnanimity for those who are in need, her pity. She only screams at me once again, and orders the guard to carry me to the great hall where her father, the Lord Superior is holding court.

No, no. Not without Evan by my side. Not without him. I screamed silently as the guard hefted me on his shoulder like a sack of flour.

It was no surprise that I was ordered to death by hanging, the Lord Superior screaming in my face as he tended to his daughter who was throwing a fit.

I was but a servant who had mistakenly clothed the High Lady in fashions that were no longer of style. I was but a servant who had done nothing wrong.

The hanging was short and bitter, me screaming Evan over and over again until my neck was snapped.

I had expected to wake up in another body, still screaming Evan’s name like a banshee. Yet, I opened my eyes to darkness. Utter and crushing darkness. Like a void where you cannot even see, nor feel your own body. Where you hear nothing, feel nothing, and are nothing.

It was cold place, the cold seeping not into my skin but into my soul where I screamed when it flayed me each time.

This was hell, hell, for it was wherever I was not with Evan.

A cruel laugh resounded in the empty space,

“Oh, child. Not hell, not that yet for you. Purgatory is the place you are looking for.”

I screamed Evan’s name once more.

I spent two years in that hell before light finally burst through my eyes again, air once again filling my lungs. I couldn’t help but cry.

Evan hugged me harder.

“Don’t worry, you’re with me now.”

Life No. 235

Me and Evan lived in a little cottage just beside the sea. I was a watercolor artist who sold her art in modest prices, and he was a fisherman who supported us enough to give us food every morning.

It was a peaceful life, living in the 21^st century where we have access to modern medicine and electricity.

Waking up one day, I opened my eyes to the face of Evan, still relaxed and evenly breathing. His skin was tanned, scars peppering his face and body. I kissed each one of those scars, until he woke up and smiled at me.

I felt a tear escape my eyes, my face scrunching up when we wiped it away.

“I want… I want a family.” I cried against his chest hugging him close to me, his warmth comforting. I felt his breath still and his body stiffen, before he relaxed and exhaled, kissing me on the top of my head.

I looked up to him and he had tears in his eyes, “Okay. Okay. We can do that. I think we could do it if we tried.” He replied before smiling widely. I did not spend anymore time before climbing on top his body and snogging the living daylights out of him.

That life was a life I think I would never forget. Not my favorite, but definitely one so memorable it will forever stay in my mind.

We got married, soon after that, and had 3 children together. James, Iris and Janet. Being parents was a challenge definitely, and at least it was a rewarding one. Every single day of my life I wish I could have brough them in our next life, brought every single photo album me and Evan had of them.

James with his curly brown hair that was similar to his father’s, and Iris and Janet both with my ginger hair but with Evan’s green eyes. They were so messy, so loving, and I wish I could relive those moments for even just a second.

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t relive the day that James moved out of the house for university, couldn’t relive the day Iris got married, couldn’t relive the moment my grandchild was born.

I couldn’t relive the moments me and Evan spent when they were all still below our waists and we spent hours waiting outside the doctor’s office for their vaccines.

But I still remember the moment just before me and he died. He was on life support, our children already said goodbye a day ago and were only awaiting the news. Moments before I pulled the plus, I wept tears of mourning for this life that will never be again.

I broke the fake tooth that stored poison in it before I succumbed to death.

Life No. 178

I was a waitress for my entire life there. I had a boyfriend, an apartment and a steady life.

I never met Evan in that life.

When I died I opened my eyes to a sobbing Evan.

“I missed you, so, so, much. Promise you’ll never leave again. Promise you’ll never leave me.” He whispered against me, as I stroked his hair, calming him down.

I shook my head vehemently.

“Never.”

Life No. 57

“Miss, Miss Malin! Please face here!” A paparazzi shouted from across the restaurant as I flagged down the waitress to pay the bill. I became an actress this life, out of pure curiosity on how that life would be, and how it would feel like. Evan decided to pursue a medical career.

I could see Evan laughing from across me as I spoke to the waitress. Scowling, I hit his hand with a fan.

“Ow!” He exclaimed as he rubbed his hand. I rolled my eyes fondly at him as I stood up to leave the restaurant. He followed suit.

The paparazzi quickly followed us, the blinding flash of their cameras forcing me to wear my sunglasses.

“Miss Malin, who is the man beside you? Is he a fellow star? Are you dating?” A man shouted at us, blocking our way.

I scowled at him, “No answer.”

When me and Evan finally got into the car I exhaled, “Oh my lord, those people never seem to stop.”

Evan rolled his eyes, “Please, you enjoy it.” He commented while pulling out of the parking.

I jokingly hit him with my fan again, “Of course dear, except of course those paparazzis who never seem to understand the definition of boundaries.” I exclaimed.

As we entered the freeway, Evan chuckled under his breath.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that you have a British accent now,” He commented, chuckling slightly.

I glanced at him from over the rim of my glasses, a teasing gaze directed toward from him, “Why, I do think that this is much more posh than your unrefined American one, darling.”

He laughed so hard at that that he ended up killing us both that night in a car crash.

Life No. 369

We were trekking in the Amazon forest then, living as travelers and vagabonds while sometimes offering a little something to the people who are in need.

We have been in almost all the continents, across over 50 countries in the world and we were known thru our travel vlogs.

Me and Evan were in a tent, huddling against each other. I still loved him despite the many years, the incredibly many fights, and all his imperfection. I don’t think I will ever stop loving him.

“Do you think you would have loved me in our first life?” I asked him, face upturned towards his as he grabbed my chin.

He smiled slightly, “No, I don’t think I would’ve. We might’ve gone to a few dates, then never meet again. But I don’t think I would’ve loved you, nor you I.”

I kissed him and knew that I will never love someone as much as I love him.

Life No. 1001

Me and Evan were in a white room, sitting on a couch as we each held each other’s hands. My knuckles were white, and grip so hard it’s almost like iron, but Evan’s was also the same.

Tears threatened to fall, but I know that my huge, bright smile drowned it all.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” I whispered happily at him.

His teary-eyed smile widened, “I guess it is, then.”

A kiss was shared between us for the last time. It was bittersweet and short, but it was all that we needed.

A blindingly white creature came out of the door with a smile on it’s face and a clipboard hugged close to its chest.

“Miss Malin? It’s time for you to meet your afterlife counselor.”

I went through that door without looking back.

Life No. 1

“Hey, Malin, right?” The barrista asked me as I nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as he handed me my drink.

I was awkward, and half chuckled and whispered as I uttered my reply, “Yes, it is I…” an awkward pause settled between us, “Evan?” I read the nametag on his chest.

“Well, haven’t seen you ‘round here. I mostly know everyone who comes in here.” He explains as he hands me my straw and my tissues.

“I just recently became an intern at that building across the street,” I pointed at the building through the coffee shop’s windows.

He chuckled a little, “Guess I’ll see you often?”

I smiled a little as I walked out the coffee shop, “Will do!”

Little did I and Evan know of the mysterious figure in a white fedora and gray suit lingering around the corner, watching us with a critical eye.

Soon we’ll know that he was fate all along, and we were the playthings he chose to have fun with.