There was a time, in my previous life, where I was... someone else. I was not a bad person in the absolute sense, I was not a criminal or a monster, but someone empty, lost in the reflections of a neglected childhood. My parents were not cruel or neglectful in the traditional sense. They simply believed in me more than they needed to. From a young age they saw me as the exemplary child: intelligent, independent, mature for my age. They thought I needed no special care, no quality time.
"Richard knows what he's doing," they said, and that was my golden cage. They trusted me so much, they left me alone. Always.
I don't remember many meaningful conversations with them, or games in the park, or those family evenings in front of the TV. Those were all scenes I saw in other people's lives, but not in mine. My day-to-day life was lonely, marked by well-done homework, impeccable grades and closed doors. I grew up in a house full of praise, but void of affection. I was never scolded, but I was never asked if I was doing well either.
I didn't understand it at the time, but that's when things started to go wrong. It was a small decision, which seemed unimportant. But over time I realized that it was the first step towards something worse. Sometimes you don't realize when you start to lose yourself, because at first everything seems normal. But looking back, I know it was the beginning of my downfall.
Because that freedom that many would wish for.
That world without apparent limits.
It was nothing but abandonment disguised as trust.
Over time, I began to change. It wasn't something that happened overnight, it was little by little. I realized that I could use the way I spoke and acted to influence others. I found that if I said the right things or faked certain emotions, people reacted the way I wanted them to. I wasn't doing it because I was bad, but because I felt empty. I played on other people's feelings because I wanted to feel something, anything. It was my way of trying to connect, even if it was in the wrong way.
I also learned martial arts, but not because I had a noble ideal or a cause to defend. I did it because I hated feeling weak. I was terrified of the idea of being helpless in front of others.
Inside me there was a fury that I barely contained, something that activated every time I saw someone really happy, someone who had someone to love and be loved. That strength became like a wall I erected around myself, a way of shouting without words that I didn't need anyone, that I could face anything.
But all that was a lie. On the outside I looked strong, unstoppable, but inside I felt fear. Fear of being ignored, fear of not being enough, fear that, if I disappeared, no one would notice.
And then she came along. A different girl.
Someone who really believed in me, who looked at me with sincere eyes, expecting nothing in return.
I included her in one of my emotional games, thinking it would be business as usual. I looked at her, took her wherever I wanted, gave her attention a little at a time... and then abandoned her.
There were no arguments or fights after I left her. She just walked away without saying anything, and that shocked me. But what really woke me up was her brother. He was a professional boxer, strong and serious, who wasted no time in showing me what happened when he played with people. There were no words, just punches. They were hard and direct, and each one made me understand that my emotional games had real consequences. That experience made me understand that I had to change and be honest with myself.
I did not defend myself.
I couldn't.
I didn't even want to.
As his fist slammed into my face, something inside me broke too. Not just bones, but everything I pretended to be. He left me on the floor, and there I stayed for weeks, locked in my room. My body was recovering, yes, but my pride was not.
The mirror no longer showed me the confident, cunning boy. It showed me someone I didn't know.
A boy who didn't know who he was, who had never learned to be himself without lying, without acting, without manipulating. And then, in the midst of that darkness, I found something that changed me completely: an old comic book.
It was a story about a hero who didn't seek attention.
He wasn't famous or flashy. No one applauded him, but he always helped from the shadows.
He saved people, stopped bad guys and never asked for anything in return. He was doing the right thing, even if no one noticed. And that's when I understood: I didn't want people to like me... I wanted to be useful. I wanted to do the right thing, even if no one saw it. I wanted to make a difference, even if no one thanked me. And in that moment, while I was still alone, my body still hurting, I decided to change.
From that day on, I stopped seeking recognition. I abandoned the desire to be the most loved or the most admired.
I became more serious.
I started to really study, not just to get good grades, but to understand the world. I also trained every day, with a real desire to improve. I wanted to see things as a hero would, not like before, when I only thought about myself.
Months went by and little by little I felt that I was changing, that I was really moving forward in this new way of living. However, the routine sometimes made me tired, and in those moments I took refuge in small simple pleasures, like drinking juice and playing video games. One day, just after finishing a novel that I had really enjoyed, I felt the need to look for a new reading that would inspire me. So I left the house and headed to the nearest bookstore. There I found a book with an impressive cover, something that immediately caught my attention: it was called Shadow Eminence. Without thinking much about it, I bought it and went out into the street with the excitement of starting to read it.
As I was walking away from the store, I saw an old woman who was about to be run over by a woman distracted with her phone. The people around seemed paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Without thinking, I ran to the old woman and pushed her with all my strength to get her out of the truck's path. I managed to get part of my body out of the vehicle's reach, but the other half was still in its path. The impact sent me flying through the air.
I felt as if all my bones and organs were shattered. Fortunately, it was not an instant death. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in front of a truck, but inside a colorful vortex that seemed to disintegrate me.
And the truck? Hadn't it crushed me?
This is even worse than a truck.
Before I could process what was happening, I was completely sucked into the vortex.
Just when I thought everything was going to stay the same, something unexpected happened.
Where am I?
I opened my eyes again. This time, an adult woman was holding me in her arms.
Am I being carried like this? But... I'm an adult! I weigh a lot, don't I?
I looked at my hands, they were small.
My arms were short.
And the faces of the adults were incredibly close.
No. It can't be... Have I been reincarnated?
I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Is this another world?
If so... Will there be magic? Mechas? Superheroes?
The possibilities were endless.
I tried to look for some sign that would help me understand this new place.
"Look at what beautiful eyes he has. He was born more handsome than his daddy.... I wish he were here!" Said the woman holding me.
"Madam, don't be like that. You have to take care of your health. She has just given birth" replied another woman, apparently a nurse.
"Yes... but seeing my son reminds me so much of him"
While they were talking, I had already started testing. I closed my eyes and concentrated. I tried to feel if I could move something with my mind or manipulate some internal energy.
And I felt it. The magic.
But it wasn't like in the manga or novels I had read.
This was different. Wilder. More raw.
If I tried to use it unchecked, I could severely damage my body. Worse, I could forever lose the ability to use magic.
What a problem. Me, who was used to easy things.... Not out of laziness, but because I was an excellent student and had a secure life.
Well, I guess I'll have to observe more. Maybe... just maybe, I've been reincarnated in one of my favorite novels.
"What name will you give it?" asked the nurse with a smile.
"Karl Anderson. Anderson, in memory of my late husband" the woman replied
"What a beautiful name. She's very creative."
"And where are you going? You don't have a home here in town" the nurse asked curiously.
"I'm thinking of taking my son to the Kingdom of Midgar"
"How well I have heard that the first princess of the kingdom is very pretty."
"What does that have to do with it?" my mother asked a little confused.
"Well...maybe they know each other"
My mother remained thoughtful. Surprised at first... but then she considered it seriously. It's not impossible.