I follow my group though Old Quebec, keeping up while taking everything in. I’m not here, thousands of miles away from my home. I’m on a summer trip with my French class.

This was not my first déjà vu on this particular trip. On the contrary, on the average in a span of 4 days, I had déjà vu 20 times a day. Some faint and vague, others vivid as the red on the rooftops or green of the Chateau Frontanac.

This time, however, was like it happened yesterday. This actually sealed my belief in reincarnation. That sounds cliche and cheesy, but I do belive in it.

So my group and I came to the top of the Breakneck Stairs, named after the steepness of their incline. I paused as everyone went down before me. I blinked and gasped of the vividness. The recurring dreams had become a reality. The little cafe to the right, the cobblestone path below. I tipped back and forth before snapping back to reality.
“Whoa.” I said, exasperated, aloud.

“Hey Louise, you coming?”

I ran to the cobblestone, still in awe.