The Vessel And The Egg

We are born from other lifetimes.  Most of us are trained to forget by the way we are brought into the world, but a few of us remember bits and pieces of our past lives.  The gods that walk among us, they remember everything.

I was nine years old when the new souls attempted to force me to forget.  I was taken to the lands of my ancestors alongside a priest who claimed my body was possessed.  Naturally, having long forgotten their past lives, my parents chose to believe him.

They all said prayers aloud upon the spot I remembered dying.  Then they told me it was time to move on, to give Derek his life.  But Derek and I were one, at least that's what I told him.  He chose to believe me until he was twenty-five years old.  The death of his parents on a doomed cruise ship made him want something he had not had, his own life.  But still I refused to go.

The human body is an egg for souls, a place where spirits form.  But some spirits, like myself, enjoy life on Earth so much we don't want to leave.  The draw to remain is sometimes as strong as the will of a new spirit to form, hence the reason I am still here.

How long I have been here I cannot say.  I am as yet to become a god.  But there are those, and at least one among humans, who has reincarnated since the dawn of time here.  Some say that the god of gods has existed on other planets, in other life forms, before this current one.  

As our hosts sleep, we communicate with each other.   Often we give our hosts wildly vivid and unusual dreams and sometimes we do battle, giving them nightmares beyond their conscious imagination.  They awake in foul moods and at other times they are inspired, feeling sometimes as if they were looking through their own eyes and someone else's at the same time.

There are moments when our hosts meet another host, like Derek once did when he met Sally.  But Sally wasn't her name, just like Derek wasn't mine.  Love in a past life creates soul mates among the living.

Hate may be the root of some of the reincarnated who do not move on, words left unsaid or ties left undone.  I claim to not want to leave because I love to live in a cellular form, but there are those who want revenge:  revenge for perceived wrongs, some who are merely angry at the god or gods among us.  These are the ones who trigger battles and war among the human species.  In these cases the bodies are vessels, not eggs, and if there do exist souls within them trying to form, may god of gods help them.

But all if this is merely an introduction to the real reason I am telling this story.  My real problem right now is a host that no longer wants me, and a fear I will find no other.