[Pending] Lamia

[Estelle]

As you approach, you are unnerved by their smoldering gazes.

You know you're being judged for all your worth, but you're determined to make your case. It's not every day cats try to reincarnate, and you're tired of being trapped here. Perhaps your first life didn't go as planned.. but the next one is going to be better.

All you have to do is answer them.

"What makes you stand out from the rest of the cats who want another chance?"

[ ahh let me know if I did anything wrong ]

Their gaze was unnerving. Their stance imposing. Some were large, larger than herself, but the youthful age in which she died left not many other options. The twinkles around her always had a way in reminding her of those colourful shades dancing about her gaze, both a welcome and bothersome distraction from the task that lay ahead. Grandmother always had told her to stay focused, and focus not on what she can see, but on what she can hear. What she can feel. The beating inside her chest, the wind blowing through the trees, the shifting tones of those who tell truth and lies – a skill she had not yet mastered, unlike the elderly feline. The only face she could ever recognise. Grandmother.

Lamia bit her lip. Her presence among the stars had felt more like an intruder among those who belong, if not the work of Grandmother which she had to honour. But a part of her would like to believe Grandmother would approve of her decision, and if she didn’t…
“I don't know.”
The first words that left her maw, a response Grandmother had always loathed. ‘You do know,’ she felt the elderly would tell her. But did she? Speak.

“I answer your question with truth, not in my favour. And I do not know if you will believe my words if I say why. But that is the reason I am here, aren’t I; to plead my case, to be relieved of this - …”
She trailed off;
“I have retained very little memories. In death, I mean. I recall little of my life prior to joining the stars, and I do not know why. Perhaps my memory was already tainted before death, maybe it is the functions of my own mind that fail me, maybe it is due to a fault of my own. I do not know. I do not expect anyone else to know either.”

She wouldn’t fool herself; so many walked the stars, only one all knowing could watch over every cat at once. Her head gave a light shake, eyes lifting to search the expression staring down upon her.
“I am Lamia. That is what Grandmother called me. I had a name before, and a name after. I am an outsider from birth, that is what I was told. But I was in a clan, once, too. I joined one, I don’t recall exactly when. Before death. I wish I knew the name they gave me or which clan it was, but I do not recall. It is blurry. Confusing. I know why I was there. Grandmother wanted me safe. She… Had me taught, until I could survive. She believed the clans were safer. But that doesn’t answer your question. Does it?”

She paused.

“I want to live. Many must say that, but it is so. However short, however brief or long. I want to live. I’ve seen death's face twice that I can recall, when Grandmother found me, after… After mother was gone, and I was lost. And ill. That is what she said. I know life can be brief; but - I like to believe – if I had died then, I would have had memories. Maybe, I would have remembered what mother looked like. Maybe I would have known about siblings. Maybe I would have known where I belonged. But I can’t recall her face. I survived, then. But I am here, so… I died. Later. Much before I could have earned a name, like the warriors. And I remember near nothing. My earliest memories are well enough, but the further I try to recall my life, the blurrier it becomes.”

“There are faces, blurry faces of those who taught me, of cats whom I maybe crossed in passing. The only clear face is that of my Grandmother, but I’ve long lost her before death, when she left me to the clans. Now, I was given a place here among the stars, but I do not know for what reason, beyond believing. What did I do in my life, what did I not do, to earn it? Who did I hurt, who did I help? It is torture, not knowing. Every cat here has those they remember fondly. Those they recall with hate, or care. A clan to support, a clan to shun. But I do not know which clan I was a part of. I do not know which name they gave me. I do not know where I belong, I do not know who was my friend and who was my enemy. I hardly know how I died; whether it was in some heroic act for my clan, or because of a foolish decision. All I remember is pain, darkness, and then… Here, the stars”

“I’ve been told before, I get to live here, guilt free, not held down by my mistakes in the living world. I’ve been told I can speak to the living in dreams, through whatever ties I can find with them. But what is the point, if I have nothing to offer? I hold no wisdom like those who have lived for moons, and my skills are limited by what I was taught… By what I remember. I have little to offer beyond an ear that can listen. And truthfully… I am jealous. I am jealous of those who get to remember what their life was like. Of those who hold regrets, who have made mistakes. Of those with fond memories, who have experienced true love and pained days, those who have cats they can miss every day. I have none of those, and no one to ask. ...Except for Grandmother. But she is nowhere to be found.”

“That is why I want to live again. I don’t… I don’t want to return to a life where I know nothing of who I am or who I was. And I don’t want to remain in the stars as the shell of a cat that, maybe, once had a life. I have experienced nothing that I can recall, made no friends and known little loses. I want another chance… Another chance to experience life; to have a family, to lose a family… Stars know where they disappear. To remember what they sound like, what they feel and look like. To make memories I can retain, to make mistakes I can learn from. I cannot promise to be the perfect cat. And I know my life could be cut shorter than the one I once had. I know… I know my poor mind could follow me into the next grave. But at least I will have tried. Tried to earn a life for myself, tried to live a life I can remember, and tried to be good in that life. That is why… I ask for your understanding. To be reborn is a gift, and here I selfishly ask to given it. Because our memories, our burdens, our experiences is who we are, and – and I want a chance to be me. To experience it. Not just a soul inside a shell.”