Your Eyes Tell

*prologue*

                     "What is meant to be
                  Will always find it's way"

                              ◻️◻️◻️◻️◻️

The steady hum of my laptop is the only sound in the office, the soft click of my mouse the only interruption, save for the occasional shuffle of paper. The comic strip is almost done—just a few finishing touches, and my mind hums with the satisfaction of it. There’s a rhythm to working alone during the day, with sunlight pouring in through the window and the quiet peace of being absorbed in my work.

My phone rings.

I glance at it briefly, uninterested. Unknown number. I’m not in the mood for telemarketers or some automated survey.

The phone rings again. I sigh, fingers hovering over my tablet. Probably nothing.

The phone rings a third time. I frown, annoyed, but the moment it keeps ringing, I feel a flicker of something—something pulling at the edges of my calm. I swipe the screen without thinking, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end is deep, unfamiliar. It takes a moment before he speaks, as though gathering himself, and when he does, something in his tone makes my stomach tighten. His words come out in quick bursts, too fast for me to catch every one of them, but the urgency... that’s unmistakable. Something’s wrong.

I try to focus, but his words seem to echo without meaning, as if the sound of them is cutting through the air, but none of it feels like it’s reaching me. I hear immediately, urgent, and come now. My heart thumps louder in my chest, a pulse of panic that I can’t shake.

“What’s going on?” I manage to ask, but my voice feels too thin. My throat is tight.

The voice on the other end gives me more, but it’s as if I’m hearing it through a fog. I catch the fragments—there’s something about critical, and I think I hear hospital, but the rest is lost in a jumble. My body tenses, but it’s not enough to steady the shaking that’s starting in my hands. I try to focus, but it’s as if everything is moving too fast. I want to ask questions, but the words get stuck.

“What—what happened?” I don’t recognize the tremor in my voice, but I can’t seem to stop it.

But the voice goes on, insistent, a deep strain in the words that I can feel through the phone even though I can’t fully understand them.

I hear something—something that makes my chest tighten and my stomach drop. It’s not the details that I remember, but the feeling behind it. The weight of it. The certainty that whatever’s happening right now is bigger than I can comprehend. It’s bad. Worse than bad. That much I know.

My fingers go cold. I don’t hear the next words. They blur into the back of my mind, overwhelmed by the feeling of panic that’s beginning to crawl through my body. I try to breathe. I try to slow it down. But it’s too late.

I drop the phone. I don’t even hear the line go dead.

Everything feels wrong. My hands tremble as I clutch my phone, staring at the blank screen, trying to piece together the fragments of what I’ve just heard. I can’t. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense.

A deep sense of dread settles over me. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what’s going on—but I feel it in the pit of my stomach. Something is terribly, horribly wrong. My mind races, but there’s nothing to grab onto. It’s just an endless loop of questions with no answers.

I have to go. I don’t even think. I don’t question it. I just move. My body moves before my mind can catch up, because I know—I know—that something has happened and I need to be there.

I scramble for my bag, hands shaking, feet stumbling as I rush out of the office. The world outside is too bright. The sun burns my eyes, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. I’m running, running, because I can’t sit still, I can’t think. All I can hear is the voice—the urgency—and the way it made everything inside me freeze.

I don’t have my car today. I gave it to the mechanic. But it doesn’t matter. I run. My legs burn. My breath comes in ragged gasps, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. The world around me is nothing. I don’t care about anything but getting to wherever it is I’m supposed to go.

The panic is building. The uncertainty is swallowing me whole. Every footstep is a question I can’t answer, a desperate need to know what’s happening—but there’s nothing to hold onto.

What happened? What is going on? The question spirals, but there’s no answer. The voice on the other end of the line is fading, and I can’t catch it. But the feeling—that’s still with me. It’s still with me and I know it’s too late.

And then, everything goes still.

My heart stutters. I don’t see it coming. I hear the screech of tires. A flash of headlights. The world tilts, and—

Everything goes black.

                               ◻️◻️◻️◻️◻️

So guys this was the prologue of my story, hope you find it interesting and wants to read further, and thanku so much for passing by.

Have a good day and bye untill next update.