Chapter Three

Hello readers and/or classmates. This is a story I have been writing outside of class called Reincarnation. Enjoy folks.

Chapter Three:

Debates class was interesting, as usual. The teacher split us up into two teams and gave us a spontaneous topic to debate about. The topic was whether or not it would be a good idea to become a vegetarian. Now I, myself, am a massive carnivore and I love my meat. So when my teacher put me on the side that was pro-veggie, my heart plummeted a little into my meat filled stomach. However, when you are in debates class you must consider both sides to the story.

The anti veggie side came up with the fact that meat tastes too good to lose. I happen to agree with them. I would become veggie but then ... bacon would get me every single time. Have you ever tried a pancake with bacon on it accompanied with golden syrup? I tell you it is absolutely divine. I think that was all the anti veggie side could think of.

The pro veggie side wasn't doing too well either. Had we of had the chance to go home and actually research and properly plan out arguments and defences, I think we would all do better.

"Jessica Zel? You're up for pro-veggie," The teacher said and took a step away from the podium she was standing and gestured for me to take her place.

"Okay, so why are we eating meat that is no good for us? Meat has no nutritional goodness in it so what is the point of eating food that will just clog our arteries up with fatty residue?" I started.
I am sorry for all the cows and pigs I offend whilst making these arguments. I love you really!

What else? My group touched on the cruelty of killing hundred upon thousands of animals a year.
"How many animals do you think die in a year from slaughtering? I dread to think. All of these animals die painfully, alone and afraid. How would you like it?" I asked.
Someone from the anti-veggie side got up.
"Admittedly, I wouldn't like it but what you are missing out, Miss Zel, is that most of these animals are sedated before entering the slaughter house and they are killed whilst they are sedated. They do not feel a thing," He said.
Everything about him said New Soul.
"Does that make it ethically right?" I fired.
"Depends on the type of person you are. If you're a soppy do-gooder Reincarnation like yourself I guess not. You're type cares only about other's rights. Others that can't even communicate with us properly. If you're like the New Souls they see the bigger picture and can be open minded about the ethics of killing animals for food. Who do you want to be Miss Zel. Reincarnation or New Soul?" He asked.
"That is none of your business New Soul," I said.
We both crossed our arms in unison. The teacher stepped in.
"Zel. Jovanka. Back to the debate," She said.
"Ethics or not you cannot argue with this," I started.
The New Soul grinned as if to say 'Oh, you want to bet?'
"What about all of those poor, vulnerable animals who are kept in tight cages or enclosures? Battery farms are dreadful places. Yet we eat the produce that comes from there! Tight spaces means more waste pollution, not to mention noise pollution. Are these the kinds of conditions we should let animals live in? No!" I said.
The New Soul smirked. Here we go.
"Our government have done their best to rid our society of such farms. Are you saying that our government has not been working enough to please the citizens of the country? Even Reincarnations like yourself? The government works so hard to please you and you say this behind their backs," He said.
So that is why he smirked.
"Our government have worked tirelessly to provide an ideal state of living for us. For that I am grateful. However, I do believe that our society is not perfect and until it is, then our government's work is not done," I said carefully.
The teacher nodded, the class visibly relaxed and the New Soul scowled. I smiled at him.

"Avoiding meat is one of the best and simplest ways to cut down your fat consumption. Modern farm animals are deliberately fattened up to increase profits. Eating fatty meat increases your chances of having a heart attack or developing cancer," I said and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the New Soul smirk once more.
"Are you going to argue with science?" I challenged.
"No but you have already said this," The New Soul said and some of the others on the anti-veggie side nodded.
"No, Mr Jovanka, I feel like I must correct you. I touched on it. Now I have developed my point, I am going to move on, problem?" I asked.

I was getting slightly agitated. No one normally dared to fight me when I am in Debates class. They know that they would get shot down in flames if they tried. I grinned as another point came into my head.

"What you call 'meat' could include the head, tail, rectum or/and the spinal chord of an animal," I stated.
The New Soul held his hands up as if to say 'so what?'
"Meat is meat, is it not?" He said and he got a loud cheer in response.

"A sausage can contain ground intestines. How can you be sure that those intestines have been cleaned out properly before they go into the meat you eat. Do you really want to be eating the insides of an animal's intestine?" I asked.
The New Soul looked at me with determination on his face. I just wanted him to go away. I actually want this lesson to end right now so i never have to see this boy again.
"Our government controls food hygiene and food safety ... are you saying that our government would let us eat the contents of a pig's intestine? I think you are, Miss Zel?" The New Soul said.
What a government's pet!!
"Our government does control it yes, but do they oversee the cleaning process, no! So I ask once more, how can we be sure?" I fired.
That shut him up.
"Okay now to those to slim down a little. Did you know that it's much easier to become and stay slim if you are a veggie?" I asked.
Some girls started grinning. I stepped down from the podium and sat back down  in my seat. Across the room i could see the New Soul giving giving me a glare.

The Debates class finished and the teacher put the scores up from last to first. I expected my name to be in the first place but it wasn't; it was in the second spot. 'Keenan Jovanka' was in the first place spot. My head whipped around to the New Soul and he grinned smugly at me before winking and then chatting to his other New Soul buddies. Ah the teacher probably has a crush on him anyway,

I walk down the corridor and angrily throw my jacket over my shoulder. I have never come second in Debates class before and the first time that i do come second, I lose to a New Soul. How unfair!

I meet my Mother outside the cafeteria and found that she was sipping a coffee. Her eyes were closed and she looks like she is in deep thought. I walk over to my Mother and tap on her shoulder. She jumps out of her reverie and spins to see who tapped her on the shoulder. She relaxes when she sees me.
"Ah. Hello darling, I thought you were someone else," Mother admits.
I look at her and see a glint in her eye. That glint that means a man is present.
"I am guessing that that glint in your eyes is something to do with the man who bought you that coffee?" I ask.
She smiles warmly at me and that smile brightens her whole face. Actually scrap what I thought earlier. New Souls have four weapons. Intelligence. Beauty. Money. Perfect smiles.

I remember a bedtime story that my Father would tell me. He would tell me about how he met Mother.
"Her smile was the one thing you couldn't miss. It's the most deadly weapon that a New Soul has. A smile.  Now everyone smiles but there was something about your Mother's smile that had to transfixed  to the spot," He would tell me.
"But, Daddy, she is a New Soul, they don't look at us in that way, how did you win her over?" I would ask.
"Ah, my child, that is one of the many mysteries of this universe. I, myself, don't even know.  I am only a Reincarnation. For once, I am glad that I am not U-"He started but stopped himself.

I shake my head and look at my Mother, she is still smiling away.
"A charming bloke offered to buy me a coffee the moment I walked into the cafeteria," She tells me.
I raise an eyebrow at her and her smile widens.
"Don't worry, I kindly refused as usual. However as I sat down he came over and sat with me and I could hardly get up and walk away could I? That would be such a stereotypical New Soul act. I do not want to be anything like them," Mother says. I smile sympathetically at her.
"You cannot deny who you are," I say and Mother nods in acceptance.
"So what was this guy like?" I ask.
"Well, he would not stop talking but he was talking about really quite interesting stuff about the government. I recall he said that his son is hoping to get into government as a work position. So he was telling me everything that his son has taught him. Did you know that on page 9327, line 37 in Government Phrases there is a short saying from his Great Grandfather in there which says: 'Do not dish out the starter if you cannot take the main course that comes after to it but look forward to the desert.' I think it means-" She started but I cut across.
"As interesting as this is you know that neither of us are interested in politics," I say.
"He made it interesting," Mother argues.
"New Soul was he?" I ask.
"No. He had too many pimples and ginger hair with black streaks," She says wrinkling her nose in disgust.
I cross my arms.
"Well, Mother, not everyone can be as beautiful as you are," I say.
Mother seems taken aback. Her sparkling blue eyes and thick wavy blond hair make her prettier than most. Me? I am plain Jessica. Brown hair, brown eyes and pale skin. Dull. Boring.
"That is true Jessica but I always rank intelligence over beauty and you know that," Mother argues.
I agree with her statement.
Mother places a hand on my back.
"Time to go," She says and we walk towards the future.
My future.

Chapter Two

Hello all readers. This is a story I have been working on outside of college called Reincarnation. I hope you like it.

Chapter Two:

The bus slowly shudders to a halt. The swirling colours from the artist's pallet have transferred themselves from the pallet to canvas. The picture painted expertly on the canvas was that of my school.

My Mother gets up to leave and people stand aside for her. Mother always has men looking at her but the only one Mother ever looked at back was my Father. She gives the guy who let her walk down the bus aisle a gracious nod and the man tries to smile back but all of his muscles seem unable to move. All the muscles apart from his eyes which roam over Mother's face and down her perfectly formed body. One of the blokes behind him claps him on the shoulder.
"She's too good for you, mate. She's a New Soul and you're only a Reincarnation. New Souls would not be seen dead with one of us," He says and pushes the other lad after my mother.

They are wrong about my Mother. She would be seen dead with a Reincarnation like Father. They are going by other New Souls' attitude towards the Reincarnations. Other New Souls think that they are better than us because they do not have any factors 'poisoning' their blood. They are pure. They have money. They have beauty. They have intelligence. Everything we hope for they have without lifting a delicate finger.

Reincarnations are heavily discriminated against. Sometimes, I hope that I am a New Soul, only because I do not want to live in a world that discriminates me for who I am and what I like. If I were a New Soul, I would not get discriminated against and singled out. However, another part of me would not like to join them. I do not like their snobby, judgemental, critical air around them. The way they think that they are above everyone else. I tell you, the day we get a Reincarnation as Prime Minister instead of a New Soul would probably be the best day of my life. It would definitely shake the system up a little.

Today I find out whether I am a New Soul or a Reincarnation. Although I think I already know the answer.

Mother waits for me to pick my way through the crowd, bringing my elbows in to avoid bashing people. I meet my Mother outside the school door. We exchange a look. In our society we spend eleven years in the same school. From the age of five to the age of sixteen.

We walk in through the school doors. Mother's heeled shoes make clicking noises as we walk through the corridors. Her clicking shoes grab people's attention and when they look up they are awed by her beauty. Mother wears a black body con dress which shows off every curve in her body. I sigh. Even though Mother shows off her beauty I know deep down that if there was anyone who wanted to be a Reincarnation, it was my Mother.

We pass through the school's plain corridors. Our school is plain and boring but that is because our school believes that art happens inside the classroom and should not be transferred to the outside. It may look gloomy but that gloominess is sort of comforting, in a way. Instead of spending our time creating work for the corridor walls, we spend our time creating work to be assessed and to get targets to do better next time.

This is the last time I will walk these corridors. The information that I will get today will determine where I will work. The work system is fairly easy to understand. If your past life worked in retail then you will most likely be asked to work in the factories. When Global Warming was still about the government passed a law saying that produce had to be genetically engineered in factories. Farms had to be close to these factories so that meat and fresher produce, such as eggs and milk, could be delivered to the factories and cause much less pollution. To cut down emissions even further the factories do not deliver to the shops. All shops were converted into factories. We send a file across the logs saying what we want and we get it delivered straight to our door. So even though the threat of global warming has been thoroughly dismissed, the process was effective and so we have kept it.

If you were a soldier in your past life then you would most probably be a sports coach or a specialist PE teacher. If you were a teacher then you would be asked to teach once more or you could become a councillor. If you were a scientist of any sort then you could teach science to children or even be a researcher for the government. Even though the government like to think they have all the information they need, they do not. They are constantly after more information so they hire researchers to do that job for them. However, the government only hire past scientists if they were like that natural philosopher. Newton I think he was called. Although nowadays the government call him a physicist . If your past life was a PA or worked in an office then you would probably be working as a journalist, just like my Father. All those New Souls who work in government and then reincarnate mainly become teachers or researchers.  The list goes on and it is fairly is easy to guess your job once you know what your past life's profession was.

Mother decided that she will go to the café whilst I am in Debates class. Debates class is my favourite class. I feel strongest when I am debating; I feel like I can say what I like, to a certain point.
"I am going to buy myself a coffee. You get yourself to your debates class," Mother orders.
I almost laugh at her comment. She could try to buy her own coffee but it won't work. She will walk into the cafeteria and within a minute a guy will come up to her and offer to buy her a cup of coffee. Her looks, body and overall confidence makes her an easy target for guys looking for a girlfriend or potential wife.

New Souls do not have to work very hard to get what they want or where they want to be. Most have a natural ability for a lot of subjects, if not most then all  of the subjects. If they do not have a natural flair then they use money to get where they want. Some who have neither just use their stunning looks to get where they want. Believe me, whatever method they use, they will get what they want eventually. Beauty, money, intelligence. Three of the best weapons this world has to offer and God has created people who have all three. I know that my Mother is a New Soul, but even she used money to get what she wanted. The rest of the us who are Reincarnations have to work extremely hard to get where we want to be and what they want. So whilst I am debating my way to the top of the class, my Mother will be charming her way to a steamy hot cup of coffee.

How fair is that?

Chapter One

Have you ever wondered whether you are a New Soul or whether you are in a long chain of incarnations? In our world that can be answered for us. Well, it has to be answered; it is part of the rules.

I sit next to my Mother on the bus to school. I watch as the world speeds past us. Colours blend into one another. Greens blend into blues. I often think of it like an artist's pallet. Swirling colours together and trying to make something new. Sometimes it works and other times it does not. That is what art is: an experiment. I think our society is a little like an artist's pallet. You take a colour and mix it with another just the same as you take a law and mix it with another law and pray that it works. If it doesn't then you quickly add another colour or another law, but you can never take that law or colour away once it has been added. It seems as if it is trial and error, or as they like to think of it ... Trial and improvement. My Mother scolds me for thinking and saying such things. I can't help it. I like to think I can have my say, even though I cannot.

Mother says it is dangerous to think such thoughts and say such things. She says I should think before I open my mouth and speak, one of our government's many phrases. My Mother reminds me of such phrases so much that I swear she has memorized the government's book of phrases and commandments. I am sure I see my Mother visibly relax when she comes home and finds that I am not surrounded by guards and my wrists are not accessorized with handcuffs.

Something to that effect happened last week during out Historical Figures And Times class. One boy in my year, who had always been very cheeky and open, blurted out exactly what he thought about our government. The room had gone silent. Mr Jones had taught us what happened way back in the past, when our society was a democracy. Admittedly things seemed so much nicer back then. Not just one leader, but a whole group of people, all talking, arguing and reaching decisions together. It seemed like a great place, a much better place than this one that we currently live in. Not that I would dare admit that in front of anyone apart from my Mother and even then I get such a look of condemnation from her. I wonder if there is a place like that outside our city walls? I guess it was because of the arguing and shouting that our government took over. Apparently no one could reach decisions without starting wars and causing even more arguments.

Mr Jones stared at the boy who had said exactly what was on his mind. Mr Jones had always been a soft hearted person, he taught us what we wanted and needed to know and he nurtured us. I think it was due to the fact that Mr Jones was ever so kind that the boy thought he could say what he wanted to say. However, when that boy broke the law he had no choice, but to call up the emergency line. The boy begged him not to and he apologised so much but Mr Jones was forced to do his duty. So when the police carried the poor boy away to his parents in handcuffs, Mr Jones said:
'Let that be a lesson to you all, ladies and gentlemen, we all have a duty in this world and those who disobey the rules set must be punished. Class dismissed.'

As I walked out of that classroom, I shivered, the look of horror on that boy's face still painted freshly in my mind. His askew hair from shaking his head wildly in protest. His normally rosey cheeks had turned crimson with embarrassment and his sleepy eyes were wide and panicked.

He was lucky he was only fifteen; had he have been sixteen he would have been taken away and shot. In our society we become adult at the age of sixteen. There was one girl who did the same as the boy in my year the day before she turned sixteen, two years ago. She was one day away from becoming an adult and because of this the government decided to shoot her. They broke their own laws and yet no one got prosecuted but when we break their laws we get shot! How is that fair? Answer: It isn't.

I wonder where the lad is now? Probably in the Young Offenders Institue, where all the law breakers under the age sixteen are sent for three years. Those who are sixteen or older get thrown into prison for a couple of weeks or so before they are brought to a room and shot.

I look away from the artist's pallet and look at my Mother. You could easily tell that she was a New Soul. They are the most prettiest out of all of us. They are perfect in every way. In looks most specifically. You can spot them a mile off. The girls have long wavy hair and perfect cheek bones, whereas the boys have perfect locks and spare upper lips. They do not have a favourite subject and they do average in every single lesson.

Depending on what your past life did depends on what your favourite subjects are and what you do well in. It also depends what profession you choose. Your past life's profession would probably be very simular to your own. For example, my Father's past life worked in an office and loved ICT and English. My Father, in turn, loved the same subjects and became a journalist.

My Mother found that she was a New Soul, which didn't surprise her very much at all. Most New Souls are asked if they would like to work in government; because they are so good in every subject. Most take up that offer. Those who are not New Souls tend to stay clear from the government side of things as we are not wanted there, unless they are requested to go to the Prime Minister's palace and get a personal job set by the goveners. However, this rarely happens. My Mother did not want to work in government, although she was offered a place, and this was her first and only defiance of today's society. Instead of becoming a politician she decided to set up her own beauty salon, the only one in the city and it is very popular to this day.

My Mother turns her head towards me; she could obviously tell that someone was looking at her. She should be used to it though, what with the amount of blokes she gets staring at her. She studies me for a while before saying:
'You could be a New Soul, you know, Jessica?'
I laugh at her comment.
"No, I cannot, one: I am not pretty enough and two: I love Historical Figures And Times, PE, English and Debates class far too much," I explain.
It was true. I absolutely love English and I am the top of my Debates class every single time. I don't exactly like Historical Figures And Times class but I excell in that class far too much for me to hate it. So either I am actually good at the subject or Mr Jones has a crush on me. I mentally laugh at that bizzare thought. Had I have been a New Soul, the story may have been different.

PE is a good subject too. I enjoy both practical and theory. Maybe that is because I do not mind a bit of mud. The other girls, whether they are New Souls or girls trying to emulate their beauty, will not do something if they are at risk of dirtying themselves or breaking a perfectly sculpted nail.

Mother looks at me disapprovingly.
"You are pretty enough to be a New Soul, darling, and who cares about your preference of subjects? They aren't always right, you know?" She asks.
Now it is my turn to look disapprovingly at my Mother.
"Don't say stuff like that, Mother!" I scold.
Mother smiles ever so slightly. Ever since that boy was taken away in handcuffs last week, I have refrained from speaking my mind. I only think the thoughts that I should not dare to now. However I do not speak them, something I think Mother is greatly pleased about.

In payment for following the law, the government have something unique to give us. Information. From the age of sixteen we can be called up to recieve the information that will change out lives. To find out whether we were someone before we are who we are today or if we are a New Soul. Once you have that information, you leave school and go to one of the selected workspaces available to you.

I thought about my Father. Did he know what he wanted to become? A journalist?
"Mother, what happened to Father?" I ask.
Father disappeared ten years ago, when I was six. I barely remember my Father as a man. I only remember who he used to be and that one day when I was six. The last day I ever saw my Father. I remember that Mother was quite anxious that day. Normally, I would be able to get away with not making my bed, however that day my Mother told me off for it. I remember running to my room and immediately making my bed. I heard a knock on the door and I remember looking out of the window and seeing people dressed in black. I could not see their faces as they had their hoods up and masks on. My Father went with these people but I still do not understand why. Mother says she will tell me when I am old enough. She does not know what I witnessed that day, that secret has remained soley with me for the last decade.

I look at Mother for an answer. Her eyes go wide, she licks her lips, sorts her hair out and lets her arms fall limply to her side. I sigh. This has been the same routine for the last decade. I know I will not be getting any answers today.
"When you are old enough, I'll tell you," She says as she has for the last ten years.
I nod, my suspicions are correct. Is sixteen not old enough? I am an adult in the eyes of society, but not in the eyes of my Mother.

I sigh once more before turning my attention back to the swirling colours outside. My own unique artist's pallet.

Prologue

This is a story I have been writing outside of class.

Reincarnation

Prologue:

The atmosphere is dark and gloomy around our group. The year is 2114. Welcome to New Earth, that's what they call it, our 'government' that is. We are in a dystopian society and everything has changed over the past one hundred years. You know Global Warming? Well that was proven to be a hoax and the old government was over-powered.

Laws and rules changed. I would say for the worst, however, I may be biased considering the position in which I am in.

I was one of those activists who decided we had a right to our own opinion. They took that away from us. They took away our right of free will and our freedom of speech.

Anyone who dares to speak against our government and the new society is taken away from their families. It is done in broad daylight; so everyone can see what a traitor you are and it also, conveniently, shows those who are thinking about joining what will happen if they do.

My group stand with our heads held high. We face away from our captors. We had tried to break out; to get away from this awful place which always smelt of decay. One guy tripped a laser; he had never been the most agile bloke. The amount of guards around us proliferated. We were taken to the room where we now stand.

"Dispose," The leader orders.
"We stood up to the government, we had our say and one day you will fall!" I shout and that was the last thing we heard before the sound of fired bullets and screams of pain fill the room.