Soul Migration

[Javier's POV]

Screeching tires…

The crunch of metal…

Followed by the excruciating pain that grasped my entire body…

As everything turned white…

Regaining my consciousness, I opened my eyes to a white room. I was lying on a bed, the unfamiliar smell of tanked oxygen filled my nostrils. My head throbbed, and my body ached all over…

Rolling my eyes, I scanned the room, my curiosity then focused on a woman sobbing beside the bed as a man besides her comforts.

She saw me staring…

She then opened her arms wide, hugging me as her tears dripped onto the white blanket, painting darker patches.

"Iñigo, darling, are you okay? We were so worried about you," she sobbed gently.

"Who... who are you?" I managed a shocked response.

To add to the surprise, I wondered why my voice had changed and to why my body was so…different - skinny, bony, slender…

The woman's eyes widened.

"Don't you remember me, Iñigo? I'm your mother, Aileen."

A man besides her, also with a worried expression, followed.

"And I'm your father, Miguel."

I shook my head, confused.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. I don't remember any of this. I don't even know you. Why do you keep calling me Iñigo?"

The couple exchanged concerned glances.

"Iñigo, are you sure? You were in a car accident. We thought we might lose you."

I tried to recall what had happened that led to this situation.

All I remembered was trying to save a boy, and then... this madness…

This body seemed to belong to that boy…The thought grew deeper:

Why was I in this body?

How did I get here?

Questions filled my head, one after another, spiralling into an endless dilemma…

The interrogation by the boy's parents was interrupted by a doctor entering the room. He carried a clipboard in his right hand and a stethoscope in the other.

"How are you feeling, Iñigo?" he asked.

I only stared at him in response…

He placed the stethoscope on my chest and immediately said,

"We need to run some more tests."

My head spun as I sat down in a wheelchair being pushed to the examination room…

On our way there, I stumbled upon an open room where I seem to saw familiar faces…

It was my workmates, and they seemed to be in a gloom.

Shifting my sight, I saw a person lying on a bed…

Pale and lifeless…

As a nurse covered the body with a white cloth.

It was a dreadful sight.

I… was being mourned for the body that lay there, cold and empty. I could only keep myself silent as a tear slowly slid down my cheeks. I bowed my head to hide the emotions I was feeling.

           .............."̴̧̨̧̧̧̢̝͚̗̠͈̖̠͉̬͙̜̲̩̖͓̫̀͂͛̐̓̅̚.̴̧͖̦̜̘̹̖̮͇̽͑̒͆̓͌͂̉͂̑̉̀̀̉̌̍͂̃͠.̷͕̩̮̮̱͔͔̲͖͇̪̈̑̓͒̉̑̇́̅̑͛̚.̸̡̡̢̛̛̺͉̪̦͚̣͚̼̲̪̪͔̳̝̫̯̯̘̭̩̹̦̻͌͆͊͆́͋͌́̑̄̈́͊͋̃̿̆͆̏̂̚͜ͅͅ"̷̡̹̩͈̤͍̤̺̜͖̯̩̩͕̱͓̳̣͉̜̩̬̌̀́̉̓̒̎͐̂̀͌ͅͅ......]

I felt a strange sensation creeping over me. My stomach turned, as I felt a sudden wave of dizziness. A coldness spread through my body, a chilling sensation that seemed to emanate from the hallway...

"I'm dead, saving this boy," I said to myself.

"Then why am I still here?"

After some examinations, the doctor asked again,

"How are you feeling now, Iñigo?"

I thought to myself,

"Am I even sure if I can tell them who I am? Are they even safe to trust?"

I only concluded that if I conceal my identity for the time being, I might be able to unravel this supernatural feeling…

I only shook my head in response to the doctor.

After some time, the doctor told my so called parents that I was diagnosed with amnesia, making me forget my memories before the time of the incident.

You could see a worried look on their face as they heard about my condition.

I did not want to lie, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going terribly wrong, and I had a mission to unravel it…

Stepping out of their car as we arrived at the boy’s house…

His parents seemed to genuinely care about his condition…

A stark contrast to my daughter’s situation…

Arms outstretched

I lay on the unfamiliar bed, scanning the room as I identify the person he is, as I slowly pieced together his story. Iñigo’s room was a reflection of his character.

Shelves were lined with towering stacks of textbooks, reference manuals, and scientific journals. A large world map, covered in annotations and diagrams was pinned covering most of the wall. His desk by the side of his bed was a cluttered mess of half-finished papers that seemed intentionally muddled…

Under his desk, I found a black bin full of food wrappers as well as crumpled papers. Rummaging through this mixed up trash, I stumbled upon a folded piece of paper. It was sealed and difficult to unravel taking time to open…

Opening the seal…

A familiar figure of a girl stumbled upon my sight

I saw my own daughter, Mira.

Questions raced through my mind.

Why did they have a photo together?

Was he involved in her death?

I paused, gathering my thoughts. I needed more evidence to confirm or deny my suspicions. Clearing his desk, I searched for anything connected to Mira. However, it wasn't enough.

I decided to return to the school where Iñigo and Mira had studied…

[Adison's POV]

I heard that Iñigo Alvarez was returning to school after the incident. It had been a month since I'd seen him last.

He was my classmate in GRADE 12 CHRYSANTHEMUM STEM, and while we weren't especially close, he had always been timid, introverted, and nerdy.

Unfortunately, he became a target for bullies.

Apparently, he’s changed significantly—his speech, demeanor, style, appearance, and even his attitude. 

Maxine, a friend of mine from a different section, approached me with her boyfriend, Oliver, who was also in my class. As they parted ways, Maxine walked slowly toward our room, her eyes lingering on it.

"I wonder what's going through his mind, bravely returning to school like that? Pathetic!" she said sarcastically, her gaze still fixed on our room.

"As far as I know, the reason he skipped school for the past few weeks was because he was afraid of being bullied again, so he isolated himself. Thankfully, Mira didn't suffer the same fate," I replied.

"That b*tch! She deserved what happened to her," Maxine said angrily.

Her words were filled with rage, and her face was contorted with envy as she recalled the times Mira had flirted with her boyfriend.

Suddenly, Ethan interrupted our conversation.

"Stop talking about Mira and avoid causing any trouble. Just show some respect for someone who has passed away," he said, looking distressed.

He glanced at his watch and said, "Class is about to start. Go to your respective rooms." Then he left.

"What a hypocrite person," Maxine muttered, rolling her eyes…

[Ethan's POV]

   The morning sun painted the hallway in hues of gold as I walked towards the classroom.  My ears ringing with Maxine and Addison's chatter about Mira. I gently chided them, reminding them to respect the deceased.

 As I continued my walk, the bustling hallway fell silent, each student's gaze drawn to the entrance.

A shaft of sunlight  illuminated as... Iñigo stepped into the room. The room erupted in a echoing whispers, each voice carrying the weight of investment. I cant even bring myself up to count how many times they’ve utter his name. With every single individual capturing his new profoundly strong aura would be definitely be captivated,a boy got every bit of our attention.

Iñigo, once a shadow cast by his own self-doubt, had undergone a metamorphosis. The awkward nerd with his thick glasses, ill-fitting clothes and slouched posture was gone, replaced by a figure exuding confidence and charisma. His eyes, now sharp and observant, swept across the room, acknowledging each of our classmates with a silent nod.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the intensity of his gaze, yet I dismissed it as a fleeting sensation.

I approached him, a small smile playing in the corner of my lips.

"Hi, Iñigo. How have you been all this time?.....ummmm...... If you need anything feel free to reach out if you'd like." I extended my hand, inviting a handshake as I nervously smiled.

Iñigo met my gaze, then lowered his eyes to my outstretched hand.

With a nod, he accepted my gesture.

"Alright," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

  Our conversation was brief, a casual exchange between two strangers. As we parted ways, each returning to their respective seats, I couldn't shake the feeling of something strangely weird…

[Iñigo's POV]

It had been ages since I'd stepped foot in this School… Today, however, I was forced to relive that similar days…

My heart pounded as I took the first step into this unfamiliar territory.

Finding the room where Mira and Iñigo were studying proved a lil bit of a challenge, but I eventually managed to find it.

As I entered the room, I was met with a sea of unfamiliar faces, with each pair of eyes piercing through my soul.

Another student entered the room after me. It’s the class president having the same expression as anyone else.

We both locked gazes…

And with a smile he reached out his hand proposing to ask him for a help if I need anything. I started to feel a mysterious aura in him… mysteriously… weird…

"Alright" I said followed by a nod.

Bowing my head as I made my way to the back of the class, where two empty seats awaits.

Mira and Iñigo's names were written on the chairs…

Just as I was about to sit down, another student entered the room. He was about to take a seat at the front when he spotted me. With a friendly smile, he approached the back of the class and sat down in the seat across from mine, Iñigo's chair.

"Hey, can I sit here?" he asked.

"But child, you're already sitting," I replied.

"You seem to be sitting in Mira's chair today. What's gotten into you lately? Missed her?" the boy teased.

It seemed he knew something about Mira…

"Hey, what-"

 as I began to question him about my daughter, the homeroom teacher entered the room, interrupting our conversation…

[Lucas's POV]

  After the tragic incident involving Mira, Iñigo had vanished from school. I was confused by his sudden absence but at the same time worried. Despite repeated visits to his home as his homeroom teacher, I only encountered his parents. They believed he was grieving Mira's loss. Even his parents were unsure why he refused to attend school, as he had isolated himself in his room for days.

  A few days later, I learned from his parents that he had been in an accident that caused him to lose his memory... 

  As I made my way to the classroom, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. I observed a group of students in the hallway, their conversation about Iñigo's return abruptly halted as they hurried to their classes…

Upon entering my classroom, the room fell silent.  Everyone froze in their tracks.

I scanned the room to find Iñigo, my gaze settling upon him. I approached him and asked,

"How are you, Iñigo? Are you feeling better after the accident?"

Murmurs erupted from the class as I spoke.

 "I know adjusting must be difficult since you don't remember anything. If you need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask me or the Class President," I said, turning my attention to Ethan.

"Ethan, please take good care of him and help him adjust since he doesn't have many friends here," I instructed.

Ethan nodded in agreement.

As the entire room immediately filled with the hushed whispers of students…

[Iñigo's POV]

  It was 5:20 in the afternoon.

   I was walking home alone when I heard a ramble of gravelly voices, filled with contemptuous laughter and shouts, coming from a nearby school alleyway.

Intrigued, I approached cautiously.

  A group of high schoolers, gathered in a circle, were smoking and beating up a helpless first-year student. I watched in disbelief as they taunted and pummeled him.

Curiosity turned to anger as I drew closer.

  One of the bullies noticed me and glared. Ignoring their menacing stares, I stepped forward, determined to protect the defenseless boy. The bullies had already robbed him and they're now stomping on him.

  I approached them calmly, asking, "What do you think you're doing? Don't you know you could get arrested for this?"

"Man, you're ridiculous," one of them sneered arrogantly.

"Mind your own business, bastard."

  A figure then emerged from the back of the group. He parted the crowd and stood before us, his voice dripping with menace.

"If you don't want to get hurt, leave. Pretend you saw nothing." He said with threateningly tone.

Hands on my pocket, I slowly titled my head towards his direction. I sighed, my disappointment evident.

"Children are great imitators. So give them something great to imitate."

The leader's eyes narrowed, his right hand clinched.

 "So you want to taste my fist ha?"

As expected he lunged his fist into me, but I dodged his punch with ease, sending him stumbling backward.

"Whoa!" His friends were stunned in amazement.

The failed attempt shattered his ego, as he stood up.

I didn't want to escalate the situation.

"Young man, I don't want to cause a bigger trouble.

 Just let the kid go, and we'll forget about this."

"Trouble? You don’t call this trouble?" he scoffed.

He threw another punch, but I grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back, causing him to wince in pain.

"Ow! F*k! You piece of sh*t! Help me!" he yelled to his gang.

His friends rushed to his aid, armed with wooden planks and metal pipes.

They circled me, their eyes glinting with malice.

I knew I was outnumbered and outmatched, but I refused to back down.

They charged, their blows raining down.

I dodged and weaved, trying to find an opening.

I stumbled backward and almost tripped over a patch of loose sand.

As one of them raised a metal pipe to strike, I threw a handful of sand into his eyes.

I seized the opportunity to punch him in the stomach repeatedly.

Another bully lunged at me, but I kicked his friend into him.

Suddenly, I felt a blow to my back, and I realized I had been blindsided.

I managed to block the attack but winced in pain.

I sidestepped another swing and retaliated with a punch to his jaw.

I grabbed his wrist, twisting it until he fell to the ground, but I lost my balance and fell too.

I scrambled to my feet and was immediately tackled from behind.

I broke free and kicked the attacker in the gut, sending him flying.

I turned to face another opponent and headbutted him, knocking him loose.

I elbowed him in the ribs, then landed a flurry of punches and kicks, sending him crashing to the ground.

I dusted myself off, feeling victorious.

But then I heard a noise behind me.

Another bully was charging at me, wielding a metal pipe.

I narrowly dodged his attack.

 He hesitated, his eyes wide with fear.

He threw the pipe away and pulled out a knife, stalking towards me cautiously.

I remained calm, focusing on disarming him.

I used my loosened necktie to grab his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife.

The bullies lay on the ground, groaning in pain.

Their aggression had backfired, and now they were suffering the consequences of their own actions.

[Later...]

As I approached Iñigo's house, his mother greeted me warmly and inquired about my day at school.

"I'm doing well, but it was a long day, Mom. I'm going to my room," I replied.

  Upstairs, in Iñigo's room, I stretched and attempted a few push-ups to invigorate myself. However, I struggled to lift Iñigo's body; it wasn't very strong yet. I realized this young man could benefit from some exercise to build up his muscles.

After a brief rest, I noticed Iñigo's computer. I sat down and began browsing through his Facebook feed.

Suddenly, a notification appeared:

[Oliver had added me as a friend!]

Intrigued, I clicked on Oliver Segovia's profile and explored his social media. I discovered a post from a month ago, featuring a photo of Iñigo, Mira, and Oliver together.

“Could Mira have friends I didn't know about?” I pondered.

As I continued browsing, I learned that Oliver and Mira were friends. Determined to uncover their connection, I began investigating. I delved into Mira's profile and noticed that Ethan Vergara, the class president, was also on her friends list.

Clicking on his profile, I saw pictures of them together.

 Grabbing a pen and sticky notes from Iñigo's belongings, I started jotting down the information I was gathering, sticking them to the wall.

As I continued to write down my thoughts, I stuck them up one by one. 

My fingers tapped on the table as I pondered deeper… 

...................

...................."̴̧̨̧̧̧̢̝͚̗̠͈̖̠͉̬͙̜̲̩̖͓̫̀͂͛̐̓̅̚.̴̧͖̦̜̘̹̖̮͇̽͑̒͆̓͌͂̉͂̑̉̀̀̉̌̍͂̃͠.̷͕̩̮̮̱͔͔̲͖͇̪̈̑̓͒̉̑̇́̅̑͛̚.̸̡̡̢̛̛̺͉̪̦͚̣͚̼̲̪̪͔̳̝̫̯̯̘̭̩̹̦̻͌͆͊͆́͋͌́̑̄̈́͊͋̃̿̆͆̏̂̚͜ͅͅ"̷̡̹̩͈̤͍̤̺̜͖̯̩̩͕̱͓̳̣͉̜̩̬̌̀́̉̓̒̎͐̂̀͌ͅͅ...]

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