Transcending To You

Chapter 1: JUST LOOK AT ME ONCE

On this ethereal, fog-laden night, a delicate luminescence bathes the bridge where Win, a twenty-year-old, tall and handsome boy stands, gazing pensively into the depths below. The soft glow barely illuminates his tear-streaked face, which bears the weight of profound loss. The cold wind, relentless and biting, causes his body to tremble, accentuating the chill that paints his face and ears a vivid shade of crimson.

In the midst of this desolation, Win climbs the bridge railing, the metallic cold seeping through the fabric of his clothing. His eyes, once mirrors of despair, now fixate on the tumultuous waves below, twisted and demonized in the obscurity. A shuddering breath escapes him as he wipes away the remnants of tears, a fleeting moment of resolution forming in his fragile resolve. As the cold wind continues to dance around him, Win, on the precipice of surrender, readies himself to take a leap into the unknown abyss.

"Good Bye," Win murmured.

As tears flowed unabated, an unrelenting cascade of sorrow in his eyes, Win glanced down at the dark abyss below. The weight of his grief seemed insurmountable; a burden too heavy for his shoulders to bear. With a heart heavy with despair, he extended his arms, as if reaching out to an elusive solace.

In that poignant moment, Win relinquished his grip on the ledge, allowing himself to succumb to the depths of the ocean. The cruel descent mirrored the turmoil within, a plunge into the unknown, where the pain and anguish that gripped his soul would merge with the cold embrace of the unforgiving sea.

As the sea engulfed him and Win felt chocked, he got up scared on his bed. For a moment, Win was not able to differentiate between the dream and reality. Once he gained his consciousness, he picked up the glass of water.

"Oh, this is not good," Win mused with a sense of concern.

Later, as he picked his phone to check the time, the display read 3:15 AM. Navigating through his phone's applications, he delved into his text messages, discovering that Bright had once again left his message unread without a response. Annoyance welled up within Win as he sighed deeply, placing the phone back on the table before attempting to return to sleep.

Restlessness lingered in Win's mind. Despite his efforts to tuck the phone away and pull the blanket up, sleep remained elusive. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, "It would be better to die in my own bed," he contemplated before swiftly contradicting himself. "Don't utter foolish things. Sleep, sleep, you stubborn head."

Win cocooned himself under the blanket, trying to seek solace from the persistent turmoil within.

***********************************************************************************************

After a restless night's sleep, Win found the morning unfolding sluggishly around him. He reluctantly rose from bed, grappling with the lethargy that clung to him as he prepared for college.

Upon entering the bathroom, he locked eyes with his reflection in the mirror, engaging in a silent conversation with himself. "You know it's impossible. Yet, you keep trying. Why not take care of your heart?" he murmured, wearing a somber expression. As he brushed his teeth, Win continued his introspective monologue, lamenting the distance that had grown between him and someone he once shared intimate moments with.

Despite taking his time to get ready, Win appeared worn out and fatigued. Though his attire may have been shabby, the radiance of his pure-hearted nature still shone through his fair complexion.

Dragging a chair lazily, he sighed as he settled into it. Meanwhile, Shyle, a middle-aged woman, was diligently cooking in the kitchen. Concerned, she observed Win's tired appearance and inquired, "Did you not get proper sleep again today? What's the matter?"