One Love

Prologue

"Come here, my love," she says from across the room. I can hear how tried she is. How long has it been now?

"Three lifetimes, now. Right, love?" I ask as I walk over and sit beside her on the bed.

She tsks me, "It's not over yet, now is it? I'm still here," She assures me as I take her withered hand in mine.

"But for how much longer? I don't know if I can keep doing this, Kate..." I trail off as I feel a tear streak down my cheek.

"Hush, love. I'm sure we'll figure this out soon, just you wait." She sounds so sure, it's hard to believe she's on her deathbed. I wish I could have her strength.

"Kate, it's just not in the cards anymore," I crawl up and lay down beside her. "You have aged, as we lay here while I wait for you to take your last breath. But I get to be stuck looking like this. Tell me, Kate, how is that fair?" I ask her as I wipe my cheeks.

"Come now, Charlie, I know you see this as a curse, but I see it as a blessing. I get the pleasure of loving you, and learning why I love you over and over again. I know it doesn't seem fair now, sweetheart, but one of these lives I'll help you figure out why you are the way you are. For now thought, let me rest within your arms. Just one last time..." Her voice tapers off as I watch the life slowly drain from her soft green eyes.

I sniffle as I reach up and close her eyes, cupping her wrinkled face in my hand. This time, it was old age, last time it was scarlatina, and before that it was consumption, and the first time she was burned for being a witch. What will it be next time? Or the time after that? I can't keep watching her die.

"I promise you, my sweet Kate, I will find you again and we will figure this curse out together." I whisper, before I kiss her forehead and leave her side for the last time in this lifetime.

Part one - Charlie

My name is Charolatte Hadlee, and I haven't aged in 347 years. I was born in Salem, Massachusetts in the year 1647. I have lived through several minor wars, and two world wars. I have seen the evolution of woman's rights, and the unfortunate devolution of the the human's greed. I have also watched the love of my life age and die seven times.

I was cursed when I was twenty-seven years old, and I've been trying to break the curse since 1682. My Victoria and I were called witches and, bless her soul, she took the fall so I could run. Every lifetime of hers, I search for her, she always has a different name, and a different appearance. However, her eyes, those beautiful orbs full of life, have never changed; they've always been the same soft safe green. You see, should someone be reborn time and time again, their eyes will remain the same. That is how I've clearly identified my love. While there is confusion evident in her eyes, there is always a passing recognition of me.

For as long as I can remember, I've felt this pull towards her. As if our souls are tied together, I always find her. Since her second lifetime she has written a journal to give to the next reincarnation as an aid. This year, I have been guided to her once again. I have found that she is a barista at a small cafe in the town of Silverdale, Washington.

I have found that sending the journals to her home address anonymously is the easiest and safest way to ensure she remembers. It only took four of her lifetimes to discover that. Not long, just roughly 150 years.

No, not long at all.

After some rather questionable stalker like behavior, I discovered that she lives in a quaint little studio apartment in the heart of town. I wrapped the seven neatly stored journals in some tissue paper and arranged them in a box. I also wrapped the box in brown paper and tied it with a burlap string. I left it by her front door and waited at the park across the street, just to make sure that no one nabbed it. I had put a note in the last journal in hopes that, should she remember me, she could easily get in touch with me. Now that I've finally gotten accustomed to the simplistic delight that is the modern cell phone, she has my number. Hopefully.

All I have left to do, is wait.

Part Two - Cassie

I've lived my whole life in this little podunk town on a peninsula in what feels like the middle of nowhere.