"Whispers of Our Past Lives"

The story of Eleanor

My name is Ailene Perez, though everyone just calls me Ai. I’m sixteen, an only child, and if I had to describe my life in one word, it would probably be ordinary. My parents aren’t rich, but they provide enough for me. I go to Emerald High school, which sounds fancier than it really is. It’s just a regular school with regular kids.

Well, regular kids except for me.

That’s what my friends like to say. They call me mature for my age, which is their polite way of saying I don’t care about the same things they do. Most girls in my class are obsessed with K-pop idols, lipstick shades, or which boy in the basketball team texted them back. Me? I’d rather keep to myself. It’s not that I’m above it all—it’s just… different. Like I’ve lived through things they can’t even imagine.

Today was one of those days where that difference became painfully obvious.

---

“Alright, settle down, everyone,” said Mr. Thompson, our history teacher, clapping his hands twice as if that would magically silence thirty noisy teenagers. “I have a story for you today. Not from your textbooks—something that comes from the old archives of this region. A story of love, betrayal, and fate.”

That caught everyone’s attention. Even I sat up straighter in my seat, though I tried not to look too interested.

Mr. Thompson adjusted his glasses and began.

---

“Many centuries ago, in a kingdom long forgotten by maps called Etheria , there lived Princess Eleanor de Roosevelt, the first daughter of the king and queen. She was said to be the most beautiful lady of her time, with a gentle heart and a spirit that longed for freedom. But Eleanor’s story was not one of fairy-tale endings.”

My fingers froze around my pen. I didn’t need him to tell me the story—I already knew it. Because I had lived it.

---

Mr. Thompson’s voice lowered, dramatic.

“Princess Eleanor fell in love with a knight. Not a prince, not a nobleman—just a knight. His name was never recorded, but he was said to be loyal, brave, and kind. Their love was forbidden. When the king and queen discovered it, they locked Eleanor away in her chambers. The knight was banished from the empire.”

Around me, gasps filled the room. Some girls clutched their notebooks to their chests, already swept up in the drama.

“But Eleanor had a loyal friend, Lady Diana. Or so she thought,” Mr. Thompson continued. “Eleanor begged Diana to send word to her knight. She pleaded for him to take her away, to save her. But Diana betrayed her. Instead of delivering Eleanor’s message of hope, she told the knight Eleanor wished to break things off. Believing her, the knight left in sorrow, traveling to a faraway land.”

I gripped my desk so hard my knuckles turned white.

Diana. My friend. The girl I had trusted more than anyone else. The sting of betrayal hadn’t faded, not even after lifetimes.

---

“A few years passed,” Mr. Thompson went on, his voice heavy. “The knight eventually learned the truth—that Eleanor had never abandoned him. He returned, but it was too late. Eleanor was to be wed to a prince from a neighboring empire. Desperate and hopeless, Eleanor ended her own life on the eve of her wedding.”

My classmates gasped again. Some covered their mouths, others whispered no way.

“But the story does not end there,” Mr. Thompson said gravely. “At her funeral, the knight appeared. He wept over her body, refusing to let go. The royal guards surrounded him, but before they could strike him down, he plunged his sword into his own chest. With his last breath, he swore that if there was a next life, he and Eleanor would find each other again and no one is going to get in their way .”

Silence filled the room. Even the rowdy boys in the back were quiet.

When Mr. Thompson finally closed his notes, I looked around. Tears streamed down half my classmates’ faces. Sniffles echoed in the air.

“That’s so tragic,” whispered one girl.

“They loved each other so much,” another said.

I just sat there, expressionless.

---

“Foolish,” I muttered under my breath.

But not quietly enough.

Heads turned. My friends blinked at me, shocked. Mr. Thompson raised his brows. “Excuse me, Ai?”

I met his gaze without flinching. “It’s foolish. Killing yourself for love… it’s dramatic, but in the end, it solves nothing. They could’ve run away. They could’ve fought. Instead, they gave up. That’s not love. That’s weakness.”

The classroom buzzed with whispers. My classmates stared like I’d just cursed in church.

“Wow, Ai, how can you say that?” one girl said. “That’s, like, the most romantic story ever.”

“Yeah,” another chimed in, dabbing her eyes. “If my boyfriend died for me, I’d—”

“You don’t even have a boyfriend,” someone cut in, and a wave of laughter followed.

Mr. Thompson looked disappointed, like I had insulted his personal hero. “Everyone is entitled to their opinion,” he said carefully, “but sometimes, Ai, the heart sees things the mind cannot understand.”

Maybe. But what he didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that I wasn’t speaking as an outsider judging a story.

I was speaking as Eleanor herself.

---

That night, I sat on my bed staring at the ceiling. The glow-in-the-dark stars I had stuck up there when I was twelve seemed childish now, mocking me.

I could still hear the echo of their voices in class. Foolish. Heartless. Cold.

But how could I explain? How could I tell them that the reason I didn’t cry wasn’t because I had no heart—but because the pain of that story was already burned into my soul?

I had lived it.

I had been Eleanor.

I remembered the stone walls of my chamber, the cold iron of the bars across my window. I remembered begging Diana to deliver my letter, watching her leave with tears in my eyes, believing she would save me. I remembered waiting day after day, convinced my knight would come for me to take me away.

And then… silence, I had just found out that Diana never told Elian the truth just a week before my parents arrange me with someone I didn't know.

No word. No rescue. Just the crushing weight of betrayal.

The day they told me I was to marry the prince of a foreign land, something inside me broke.

And the night I pressed the blade to my chest… I thought of him. Of the way he had smiled at me, the way he had sworn to protect me. And I told myself it was better this way—that if I couldn’t live with him, I wouldn’t live at all.

But death wasn’t the end.

Not for me.

Because here I was, centuries later, reborn in a world of smartphones and school uniforms. And somewhere out there… I'm hoping he was too.

Elian.

My knight.

The boy who had sworn, with his dying breath, that in the next life we would be together.

---

I closed my eyes, whispering his name like a prayer.

“Elian… where are you?

I had searched years for him without meaning to. Every boy I met, every stranger I passed, a small part of me wondered—is it him?

But none of them ever felt right. None of them ever made my soul ache with recognition.

And yet, deep inside, I knew.