Where am I? who or what am I? why do I have these memories?
Life is a mystery because what makes life “Life” having a soul? Being a soul? Or is it having a living body? Or is it living your life with the meaning you give it? Or is life only life because of death at the end?

This is a short/one-shot. I really liked the story, so I am going to write more on Consciousness, learning what she does not understand anymore. Why “It” is who “It” is. So

I don’t know what genre I should give this story.

I also don’t know what groups to put it in.