The Time Weaver

Part 1 - A Second Chance

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of my room. The room was dimly lit by the pale light of the moon streaming through the window. I was in a dilemma, depression-whatever you want to call it. The weight of the past few weeks bore down on my face and body, which is suffocating me with each passing moment.

I had always thought of myself as resilient, someone who could weather any storm. But this time, it was different. It's about, Eric Vaughn, my boyfriend, the one was my life. He broke up with me. He had been avoiding me for most years. But again, we worked well. The man I thought knew more than everything, the one I had planned a future with, had become a stranger overnight.

The pain was unbearable, a relentless ache that gnawed at my heart. I don't know how to endure it. I forget how to smile, laugh, and even how to live.

The small bottle of pills in my hand felt like a lifeline. I was hoping for an escape, for an end to the torment. I wish someone is there to stop me. I wanted peace, a certain amout of comfortness in my life. But, I know myself that, if I live... I'll hurt people more. With trembling hands, I unscrewed the cap of the pills, tears started to falling down my face.

"I'm sorry, mom" I can't do this anymore."

I swallowed the pills one by one, each tiny tablet a bitter step closer to oblivion. 

But then, in the midst of that suffocating darkness, a spark of resistance flickered to life. It was as if a voice deep within me cried out against the numbness, against the finality of my actions. With a sudden surge of willpower, I forced myself to cough up the pills, gagging on their acrid taste as they spilled onto the floor.

For a moment, I sat there, gasping for breath, the reality of what I had almost done crashing down upon me like a tidal wave. The pills lay scattered before me, a silent testament to the brink from which I had just pulled back.

Shaking uncontrollably, I stumbled to my feet and staggered towards the bathroom. Cold water splashed against my face, shocking my senses back to life. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—haggard, hollow-eyed, but undeniably alive.

I lurched to my feet, stumbling towards the door of my cramped apartment. The walls seemed to close in around me, shadows dancing in the corners of my vision. My limbs felt heavy, leaden with the weight of my choices. Panic surged, amplifying the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat.

Outside, the world spun in a dizzying kaleidoscope of blurred lights and indistinct shapes. I fumbled for my phone, fingers trembling as I dialed Jess's number. Each ring felt like an eternity until finally, her voice crackled through the receiver, tinged with concern and sleep.

"Hazel? What's wrong?"

My words came out in gasps, barely coherent as I pleaded with her to meet me at our favorite cafe, just a few blocks away. There was an urgency in my voice that cut through the fog of her grogginess. Jess, always my anchor, promised she would be there soon.

As I staggered down the sidewalk, the world seemed to slow to a surreal crawl. Colors bled together, sounds warped and distorted. And then, with sudden, terrifying clarity, a car careened into view. Its headlights bore down on me like accusatory eyes, blinding and inevitable.

The screech of tires, a sickening crunch of metal against flesh, and then... nothingness.

I woke to a cacophony of sound: beeping monitors, hushed voices, the sterile smell of antiseptic. My eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus on the harsh fluorescent lights above. Panic clawed at my throat as I tried to move, but every muscle protested with a dull ache.

A nurse noticed my awakening and hurried over, her face a mask of professional concern. "You're awake," she murmured, checking my vital signs with practiced efficiency. "You're in the ICU. You were in an accident."

Images flashed through my mind like fractured glass—Jess's worried face, the blur of headlights, the sickening impact. I tried to speak, but my throat was raw, my voice a raspy whisper. "Wh-where's Jess? Is she...?"

The nurse reassured me gently. "Your friend is HERE. She's been here, waiting for you to wake up."

Relief washed over me in a dizzying wave. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment to simply breathe, to feel the steady rhythm of my heartbeat beneath the wires and monitors.

As the fog of sedation began to lift, I became aware of the dull ache in my body, the throbbing pain in my head. The doctors came and went, their voices a distant murmur as they discussed my condition. Bits and pieces of their conversation filtered through—broken bones, internal injuries, but nothing life-threatening.

Time blurred in the white-washed confines of the ICU. As sleep claimed me once more, I embraced the darkness, knowing that with each waking moment, I was one step further towards death.

But fate had other plans. I felt a strange sensation, as if I was being pulled through time and space. My body felt weightless, and mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. I tried to scream, but no sound emerged. The world around myself dissolved into a swirling vortex of light and color.

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in my bedroom. The familiar surroundings had vanished, replaced by a different yet strangely familiar scene. I found myself in my childhood home, the one I had left behind few year's ago. I slowly sat up, my heart was pounding as I looked around. Everything was exactly as I remembered it - the faded wallpaper, the worn-out furniture, even the old clock on the wall ticking away steadily.

Disoriented and bewildered, I stumbled to my feet and walked to the mirror. The reflection staring back at me was not the broken, despairing woman I had become. Instead, it was the face of my younger self, the girl I had been ten years ago.

"Is this real?", touching my face, arms, even hair I asked myself. My long hair is gone, which is replaced with the short hair I once I had. Everything felt tangible, solid.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a voice calling my name. As I turned to see my mom is standing in the doorway, looking exactly as she had ten year ago - strong, vibrant, and full of life.

"Hazel, honey...breakfast is ready," mom said with a warm smile. "Come on, you don't want to be late for college."

School? The word echoed in my mind. I glanced at the calendar on the wall. It was July 2nd, 2014. Somehow, impossibly, I had been transported back in time, I was given a chance to relive my past.

My heart raced with a mix of fear and excitement. This was my opportunity to change everything, to make different choices, to avoid the heartache that had driven me to the brink of despair. But with that chance came uncertainty. Would I change my fate, or was I destined to repeat the same mistakes? This time, I would fight for my happiness, for my future. This time, I would not let destiny be decided by anyone but myself.

And so began Hazel Evans's journey, a second chance to rewrite her story and discover the true path to happiness.