The Second Chance

I woke up with a start, disoriented. Sunlight streamed into the room, and it was… wrong. It was my old room from eighteen years ago, posters of bands I hadn't thought about in ages still tacked to the wall. And on the bedside table? My SAT registration card.

It was like yesterday I'd been sweating over those stupid practice tests. I thought back to the mess of my 'rebirth' – my 'second chance' - and sighed. I'd worked myself into the ground in my last life, all to get my brother's wedding paid for.

Yeah, that's right. I was a total "golden child" for my brother, a doormat who poured everything out for my family and got nothing back. My parents would cry, yell, and guilt trip me into "helping my brother". I'd always caved, but this time? No way. This time, I was gonna live for myself.

1.

After filling out the college applications, choosing a school that I actually wanted to go to, I handed the form to the guidance counselor and hightailed it to the flea market behind the school. In my past life, I’d seen this antique bowl there – a blue and white beauty mixed in with a stack of boring soup bowls, all for fifty bucks. Someone snapped them up, then turned around and sold just that one piece for millions. I saw the auction – it went for over a million and a half dollars.

I practically sprinted to the market, pulled out all the cash I had on me, and bought that pile of ten soup bowls.

I pretended to check each one, my heart hammering in my chest when I spotted the blue and white bowl. I grabbed the stack and practically bolted.

“Hey, young lady, could I take a look at those bowls you just bought?” An old guy with a cane was right behind me, “I’d be happy to buy them from you.”

This guy! I knew him! He was the one who got that bowl into auction. It made the whole town buzz. Our little village was full of hidden treasures, if you knew where to look.

"You gonna give me the same fifty bucks I just paid?" I walked to the edge of the flea market, stopping in a less crowded spot to face the old man. I was careful to keep the police station in sight. Someone wanted to rob me now, they had to deal with that.

He noticed me watching the police station and chuckled. "A wary one, aren’t you? How about we sit by the station? You show me the bowls there?"

“Deal!” I perched on the steps by the police station entrance.

I wasn’t a real 18 year old. I was in my 30's when I died. I wasn't gonna be naive.

He sat next to me. "So, let's have a look, shall we?"

I pulled the blue and white bowl from the stack. "Careful, don't drop it. It's not every day you find a complete Ming Dynasty bowl like this."

"Oh? Heh heh," he laughed, pulling out a magnifying glass. He peered at the bowl carefully. "So you know your Yuan from your Ming, do you?"

"Not exactly, but this one definitely feels more Ming. The blank space, the shallow cuts, the chrysanthemum, the square pattern in the flower center—usually no marks, but this one happens to have one." I pointed at the flowe...