Reader (countryhumans)

9: Wha- What? What?! What!!

Jolted from the dream, my eyes abruptly open. I could feel sweats running down my face, literally wetting the pillow of the bed.

Bed? What?

Then it made me realized the situation, where am I?

Unfamiliar ceiling, unfamiliar scent, and unfamiliar bed. Where?

Even though its completely unknown, there's a sense of nostalgia within this space.

'Home.'

My heart says. It's more familiar feeling of belonging unlike where I first woken up. Did I came back? But my room's not like this.

Wait... What just happened?

Many thoughts run but the focus focuses in one particular subject– Home.

Unknown to why, but my brain suddenly automatically compare this place I currently am to the ones I'm missing.

Wood like my bed, but this is plainer than mine. It doesn't have those DIYs I made just to passed time, hanging in the walls and ceiling.

Small bed, but this bed is larger than I have. But the same as the ceiling, its plain unlike the small bed but organized and design in creative way. Its colorful too, the quilt design by cartoon characters to lift up my mood where my room was.

But the most nostalgic feeling was the reflection of poor but simple life this room brings. Completely different from the ones I saw at Philip's room boasting in rich resources.

This world might be adopted to the real world but it didn't portrait all realities but some are twisted in another unrecognizable even to me, as this book's reader.

Like the Maharlika Family being rich and/or in nobility. While the characters like Mexico, one of uprising country in the real world, is an illegitimate son stepping the nobility battle for inheritance. Or Israel being adopted of the Marquis family of this world.

So messed up, that relaying in your culture to ease up your distance away from home is something ... I can't get used to. Thinking that I could be adapted to this life believing Philip and the family is the same in my world. Such... disappointment.

'I miss my home.'

The ones I'm bearing, the thoughts which hiding and that I'm keeping myself busy thinking its going to end one day, or I'm just in a long unconventional vacation; all came to me because of nostalgia.

Maybe it's because of the dream. A dream connected to my world. Or maybe the vibes this room quite similar to my room? Or the culture adapted that's still alive and lingering in this world? Or that my mom is a bit similar to Philip's mom in some way?

I don't know.

I feel like any moment now I might cry.

"I want to go home."

My lips let go, hearing the choking voice as if ready to cry.

Why can't I just go home?

Suddenly, I hear footsteps. For whatever reason, my hands suddenly wipe my eyes which no single tear was dropped.

It just came to me that maybe they are coming for me.

Guess what? I'm right.

The door open and me, laying the entire time thinking things more deeply, closed my eyes afraid to be discovered being depressed.

Might be Baguio.

Wait...

Now that I think about it, where I am?