Desperate Remedies: The story of repeats

Did you know that the world keeps repeating itself. Trust me, it does. Every 150 years or so another perfect copy of you is born and lives it’s own natural live. It does not have your soul, but the body is yours. Down to every blemish and freckle.

How do I know that?

Well, it’s both easy and difficult to understand. I myself am eternal. I’m the first. The greatest of us all.

I was born in the beginning of time into the first tribe of men. I watched as our species grew and had my own hand in nurturing it forward. Always trying my best to correct mankind when it strayed too far from the proper path.

You might put on a judgmental face and ask why my opinion should be held in such esteem. And I have thought about it. The greatest reason I found was this; it’s because I know better. When I was created by the powers themselves, they showed me a glimpse of paradise. A world of peace and prosperity.

Ever since I have plotted, schemed and almost dragged our leaders of the moment forwards.

Free will is real but it’s also a big lie. We can choose. We can follow our own path whichever way we want it to go, but in the end we are nothing but sheep that follow quite dozily wherever stronger people want us to go.

The Middle Ages are a great example of that. So much history and knowledge died during that time. Willful, arrogant men seized control and would not listen to reason.

“For the grace of god..” my ass. They knew that fear would let them play gods, so they did. And the whole of humankind suffered for it.

They, or should I say we, suffered just to let them feel important. It was hard to keep a straight face when death came for all of them and dragged them kicking and screaming to whatever destiny had in store for them next.

The same thing is happening now. A glorified orange man walks around mocking people. Putting himself on a pedestal, announcing people from other countries to be mere animals, just because he can benefit from it.

Another one started a petty war to seize control over lands that should never be under his thumb. Not now. Not in the age of the peace I was so desperately trying to build up.

And it’s the same story in other corners of the world. Greedy men doing greedy things for their own amusement and benefits. Most of them trying to subjugate half of the population for being of the “weaker” sex.

All pitiful acts that will be sorted out in the end. If not in their lifetimes, then after their passing. And each and every one of their sobbing and screaming pleads for mercy will bring a smile to me. A sense of justice that the universe will bring to us all in the end.

But I digress.

What I wanted to talk about was the repeating pattern of our existence.

In the beginning this took me by surprise. I had taken to my bed, quietly meditating, and watching over the land when I saw her. It was like looking into a mirror. The same sand blond hair, pale blues eyes that seemed to look though you, into your very soul. The graceful limbs, lithe and athletic figure.

It was me but at the same time not. When I was born, I was held up as a goddess. No one had seen that hair color or eyes before. Even my face looked different, my features more delicate.

A gift from the gods my parents called me at first. But as the years went by and I didn’t seem to age past 18 they called it a curse. That I was a witch. In time the whole tribe came to fear and hate me, and I was cast out.

By then I was around 30, an age that most thought of as impossible. At 30 you as a woman should be weak, starting to gray, the body ruined by hunger, pain and childbearing.

In a way I was glad to be alone. I made myself a lovely home in a small cave close to a river. The fish was plenty, and all sorts of berries and fauna grew all around. A small bit of heaven just for me.

Not long after that I had my first visit from the powers. They explained my purpose and gave me useful things that would assist me with my tasks. I didn’t fear them. They had always been around. Like a shadow close to the fire or glittering in the morning dew as me and my mother went out to gather food.

“Watch over the children of earth. Lead them silently on their way to enlightenment and prosperity.”

I will admit that I have put forth way more effort towards the prosperity part.

It’s just not right to streamline other people’s beliefs. All of them end up putting their faith in the powers anyways. Just with different labels and demands of the faithful. Enlightenment comes from our understanding; how can I make you understand something when I have never been in your shoes? It sounds questionable to me.

And as I thought it over and grew into my role as a watcher, I saw her. The first of my repeats.

I admit that I followed her life a bit too closely at first. Almost losing sight of my true purpose and letting a less than desirable man gaining more power than he should have gotten.

But I couldn’t help it. There she was living a normal human life. She grew up, found a mate, and had children. It was a humbling experience for me, watching the life I could have had. And at the same time, it made me happy that this had not been my destiny.

Her husband was a brute who, although loving her deeply, viewed her as property. Having her pregnant as often as he could. Some of the pregnancies were successful and others not so much. Their children put a horrible strain on her, and he tried to be away on the hunt as much as possible.

With some distance I have grown to understand that he had to, his ever growing family had to eat.

When she was too old to carry more children he pushed her aside and started anew with a younger woman. My repeat accepted her role as the second wife humbly. Secretly glad that her life would calm down a bit. Taking her place as the matron and educator.

When death came for her, she greeted him fondly and never looked back.

For me her death was like losing a small piece of myself. Like a dream I didn’t want to wake from.

After her passing I lost interest in her family but strangely felt the need for human contact. Usually, I tried to avoid people. All my meddling and communication came through disguises and camouflage. Always posing as someone who demanded respect. Not as the young woman I really was.

Now I craved for someone to see the real me. To establish myself in this world as a person. Maybe I would be able to create real bonds with people, even if they would only last for a short while.  

The first two times it went well. I had wonderful talks with some women out by the river far away from my cave. We shared tips on cooking, moaned about responsibilities and meager harvest after a rough winter and cold spring.

The third time I was almost enslaved.

We had planned to meet at “our” spot at noon. I came a little early and waited thinking of all the things I wanted to know more about. My so-called friends didn’t come. Instead, a trio of men appeared.

They threw me down, screaming that they knew who I really was. The witch from the planes. The wandering one that stole women and children away in the dead of night.

“They are ours.” They whispered after looking over my body and ripping off my clothes. “And now you will be too! A witch will make our tribe stronger. Just think of the children we will have with you. Don’t worry wicked one. We will make you a pretty cage at home.”

I hope you forgive me for not going into details of what came next. Those horrid things are etched into my memory and I try not to think of them.

Thankfully the powers seemed to be watching over me. I managed to get away from them, though it is hazy how I did. When I came to, I was home. My body was badly bruised and I hurt in places I hated to have been touched.

For decades after that I kept to myself. Only interacting in disguise. I was constantly on the move. The population grew and moved around so much that I was at my wits end. It was excruciating.

Finally, the powers came to me and said that I could rest easy. They had seen my plight and remedied it. Instead of just one watcher, now there would be many.

When my second repeat was born I stayed away. My own experiences made me despise her. She was blessed with the innocence that the trio had so brutally stolen from me.

I curiously peeked in on the third and saw her die at the age of two. She had been happy, and I was content. All was as it should be.

After that the repeats blurred together. Although I tried my best to keep tabs on them. If not just to be certain that I wouldn’t have to interact with them in any of my schemes.

As I grew in knowledge, I learned how to set up an alarm. A psychic ping that went off when a new repeat was born.

Few of them were remarkable. Good and bad lives, children or childless, happy or horrible sad. I tried to tell myself that this was just the normal course of human life. It happened to everyone. But this tiny little voice in the back of my mind kept pestering me.

It’s not just a normal human. That woman is a part of you. The powers are taunting you. Showing you multiple versions of you that you can never really be.

Always with so many you’s. Even writing this feels strange. How can you not be you and still be you at the same time. Frustrating right?

Time flew by. We survived the Middle Ages and countless wars. I came to know some of the other watchers, though we have never really had that much time to just sit and talk. There is always something for us to do. To plot, together or in our own territories. But as always, we strain for the same goal. A happy, peaceful world for all.

And then suddenly I found myself drawn to a repeat. Everything about her screamed save me.

Her rich and powerful parents neglected her, her live in teacher used to beat her for every wrong answer and her life felt like a prison. Both from her perspective and mine. The only bright spot in the darkness was one of the younger maids that smiled at her.

That a smile would suffice to keep her spirits up brought tears to my eyes.

For the first time I felt justified in doing something for a repeat. This just wasn’t fair. I prayed to the powers for an answer. For a way to break her out, if not just for a way to replace the teacher with a kinder one.

Their answer was no. This is her life. She will have to endure it.

I could feel a crack in my psyche. How could I build up a fair, good world if I couldn’t help improve a single persons life.

I couldn’t step away. I would not step away. They might have spoken but I would just have to be clever.

To put in action a chain of events so innocent and small that it would never be traced back to me.

But how?

The answer came in the form of a lightning storm.

My repeats parents were away, and her teacher demanded that they go out for a walk. She knew of the repeat’s fear of being struck down and wanted to have a laugh at her dispense.

The poor girl was deathly pale, walking as fast as she could while the teacher held her back, pointing at the sky and marveling at the show above them.

You might ask if they had never been warned about going out in such dangerous circumstances and the answer is yes. Everyone tried to stop them, but the teacher wouldn’t listen. She thought she was untouchable.

Sadly for her she wasn’t.

It was mere child’s play to trick her out in the open at just the right time. A little piece of gold coin glittering on the ground had her running and a stray lightning caught her.

She didn’t die. I’m not that evil. But the shock had her bedridden for days and quickly dismissed from her job as my repeats parents learned of her dangerous outing. They would not be able to marry their daughter off to a suitable man if she had been hurt, or god forbid, scarred in any way.

Her life changed for the better after that. Still filled with as much sorrow as joy but never as immorally cruel as before.

The powers came to me, demanding to know what had happened but I claimed innocence. In no way, shape or form could this have been my fault. And as it turns out I was in a serious discussion on the other side of the country at the same time as the accident happened.

They looked at me with stern faces, clearly suspicious but said nothing.

I kept on doing my job. The powers would forget all about this in time. And time was something that I had more than enough of.

Sadly, I was wrong.

In my hubris I thought that my meddling could be hidden, that I could somehow go behind the powers and make my will come true.

The next repeat was perfectly lovely and lived a true storybook life without me ever needing to worry about her.

In 2001 I did the unthinkable.

My repeat should have been working in the twin towers as they got attacked.

The day before I had a premonition. I thought nothing of it, it had happened before when the powers needed to warn me of impending doom. Not to stop it but to be able to recover from it in the best way possible.

The premonition didn’t even show me her fate. I just knew her. Had kept an eye on her from birth, too curious in the later years. Aikin for a real connection to the world. Stupidly living through my repeats and not willing to see my connection severed.

She was only 25. Newly wed with a beautiful toddler and had just learned that she was pregnant again. My repeat was so happy, how could I possibly see that happiness die.

I set everything in motion. I started by hacking into her work. Scheduling her to have a vacation day on the 11th.

It didn’t work.

In the morning someone had put her back on track.

None of my less invasive methods worked. She was still going to be there. Still going to die. I thought about blowing something up to stop the traffic. She would still go in but be safe from the

consequences.

But ultimately I couldn’t do that. Others might suffer for it. Others that I also wished to protect.

I would have to be more direct. Stop her myself from entering the building.

I put on a pleasant disguise and waited for her. Just as I saw her coming someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me away. I strained and struggled, tried to yell but couldn’t do anything. I was powerless and crying as I watched her, smiling and happy walking in towards her end.

I’m even crying now as I put the words down. My heart is heavy, and I feel hatred for the world course through me.

The powers themselves stopped me. Blaming me for failing in my duties. As well as being the first watcher to be born into the world I am also the first watcher to meddle in things beyond my authority.

I’m beginning to see just how flawed their logic is. Their goal is just but the methods are not. If we would only meddle more, push harder instead of whispering from the shadows we would be able to create that perfect and just world. We would truly experience equality for all. Not just in pretty words from people trying to gain power, but for real in actions. We could see and experience it.

I broke away from them. As the first, they gave me too much control and power. They can’t get rid of me now. Only hope to control me.

I think that it is time for a change.

Will you join me?