Chapter 1: 1.1 Tom Rhee

Michigan.

All of this seems too unreal to me, but it is real. It is happening. The ‘second chance’ only possible through reincarnation is happening to me. Reincarnation has a mystical feel to it, almost crazy if not just unbelievable.

Who would believe me? If I start announcing my ‘reincarnation’ in the middle of the streets, I bet 99% would deem me nuts, and would even go the extra mile as to suggest taking me to the nearest asylum.

I am a curious kid, so that’s exactly what I did.

“Ladies and gents, please come here and look. What you have here is a kid who has seen so much of the past and more of the future. I am telling you people, the end is coming. When you turn, you’d learn of your foolishness. The dead will rise, and we will fall! So hear me…”

As an 8-old kid, it doesn’t matter how exaggerated my bullshit may become, because, in the end, people will allow me to say it. If I were a dirty homeless vagabond doing this stunt, people will either shoo me away or just ignore me. That was exactly what I was expecting, but the results tell me otherwise.

“The change will come. I definitely have seen the future. It will spread like a wildfire made of plague. It won’t just kill you, it will consume you, take over your flesh, and then control you!”

With my theatrics and emotional display as if I were acting for an audience, I continue attracting the attention of the people. With a paper tray in front of me, I continue my impassioned speech about the end of the world.

The ‘paper tray’ was an adlib on my part. In the back of my mind, I was imagining something quite interesting to happen. It didn’t disappoint me.

“Hey, where is this kid from?”
“Is he practicing a dialogue for theater?”
“He is good. The kid has flair.”
“Has a wide vocabulary too.”
“I don’t know man, it feels real to me…”
“He must be that good, huh?”

The money grubber inside of me is screaming with joy. I don’t even know when, but my paper tray was already full of coins and paper dollars. My paper tray is overflowing with money.

I bet, my dear audiences, would love it if I tell more of my craziness. Before I was even able to share with them that we are actually living in a fictional world, in a TV series, or from comics, someone suddenly pulls my ear.

“Ou-ouch… hey, that hurts!”

“You brat, I will give you a good scolding back home.”

I look over to where the voice is coming from only for my heart to metaphorically beat out of my chest. Of all the days she has to ‘successfully’ track me, it just has to be today.

“W-ait, mom, let me get the grubs. Do you see how much is that? I can buy a good military knife, a vest, and lots of food supplies with that money.” I try my best to fight back, but what can I do?

I am against my mom, my literal kryptonite.

Mom pulls my ear harder. People laugh at my trouble, and more likely, at my inevitable demise from the cruel scolding of mom. I stretch my arms out barely gathering the paper tray and the money.

“F-folks… That’s all for today! Thanks for your charity!”

Just like that, Mom drags me by the car and drives me home.

“What were you thinking Tom? I told you to stop repeating this shit. How many times have you cut classes already? The only reason the school isn’t expelling you is because of me! If you continue doing this, you’ll be expelled, and on top of that, I’ll lose my job!”

I admit it, I was at fault. I don’t like stressing mom, but the danger is real. Awakening parts of my past life since my 6^th birthday, I rationalize that I might just not be right in the head. Being made suddenly aware that I reincarnated is a very unpleasant experience.

The self-denial, overthinking, gratitude and worry all intermingle into a chaotic blender!

“Mom, I told you, right? The end of the world, apocalypse, and zombies…”

The only reason I was able to sanely think that the apocalypse is coming is because of The Walking Dead TV series, or TWD for short.

In my past life, I was an orphaned nobody whose past time ranges from watching TV and playing games.

After much storytelling from my grandparents, I realize I must be reliving the events of the TV series. In that TV series, there was an individual by the name of Glen Rhee. Apparently, this Glen is my uncle.

So the following events of the TWD series is inevitable to happen! I wish I am just delusional. I hope my uncle Glen is not the same Glen I know from the TV series. But the signs are real. I have reasons to believe this universe is the same as that of The Walking Dead TV series.

“Mom, you should believe me. I have no way of proving this to you, but zombies are a real thing.”

“Oh, good lord. I hope you didn’t hit your head or something. What were you even doing back there in the streets, soliciting money like that?”

Sigh… This is getting exhausting. It has been some time since I was employing this strategy of telling the truth. No matter how hard I try, it seems to not get through. That’s understandable. Any normal person would think of my words as ridiculous and unacceptable.

I can only try my best.

You are reading story Starved, Solved, and Saved at novel35.com

“It was a performance, mom,” I lie through my teeth. “It was a performance. I want to earn some money to buy toys.” For now, I have to ease mom’s mind.

Through my act of telling her the future apocalypse so many times, I was hoping that the ‘idea’ sticks in her head for a long enough time, so that when shit hits the fan, mom would know what to do and be able to react accordingly to the situation.

Mom sighs in relief thinking that I wasn’t at least doing anything shady. “Saving money is good. Just remember, don’t cheat people, okay? Whatever that speech was if people are entertained and if they think your performance is worth something then that’s good.”

“Okay, mom. I am quite an entrepreneur huh? I am proud on behalf of the Chinese people.”

“We aren’t Chinese though, we are Korean…”

“…”

I was speechless. That was an honest mistake on my part. Other kids around my age think of me as Chinese though. Sheesh… Can’t blame them…

Breaking the awkward silence while driving was mom’s comforting voice. “You know, your grandparents and the others were immigrants coming from Korea. The ‘past’ was such a hectic state. People are killing left and right. It was terrible.

“Now that we live in a peaceful world, we can only thrive. That’s why you must work hard to be a part of those who thrive, okay? Be like me, a teacher. If you want to aim higher, you can also be a lawyer just like your aunt.

“Be part of the American community. Don’t be like your uncle Glen. I reckon, at this point, he must be working as a pizza delivery boy or another underachieving job. I am just saying, your future career will decide who you will become.”

So… This is americanization, huh?

At this point, I am still speechless. I never get tired of mom’s scolding. However, that’s a different matter for her preaching. As someone who had a past life and a somewhat honed perception of things, I cannot easily agree with some things I find averse to.

Interpreting my silence as accepting her words, mom continues driving home.

Arriving home, I see grandma and grandpa arguing over the smallest things.

“You old bastard, I did tell you to always turn off the lights before you sleep.”
“It’s not my fault I left it open, you hag. Tom promised he’d turn it off.”

Grandma, grandpa, and mom’s eyes land on me. I audibly gulp in nervousness. Mom comes at me with her ever-so-gentle smile, but I know that was just an act.

“My handsome son, where were you last night?”

“…”

Grandpa my forever ally offers an explanation in my stead.

“He went to get water.”

“Shut up.”

But my grandma, the woman who is always on the side of justice shuts my ally down.

It has been a pathological sickness on my part to be incapable of lying. Be it my past life and now. I force myself to not answer, but… it is futile. Mom’s piercing gaze is too terrifying.

“I went out… to… familiarize myself with the layout of the city…”

“Why?” There was helplessness in mom’s voice. I swear, I think mom is about to disown me.

I nervously clasp my hand. Rubbing them won’t help but that soothes my nerves a little bit.

“I… was… preparing for the apocalypse…”

There was a long silence. Following it is grandpa’s laughing, and grandma’s hitting grandpa’s back telling him to stop encouraging me. The duo was none of my concern. Mom’s chilly gaze is killing me.

“Tom Rhee, you are grounded.”

That was one impressive achievement… grounded at the age of 8…