Rooftop Summer | EN- Jake

2

The next few days passed in a blur of summer activities. Hanna spent her time bouncing between beach outings with her friends, shopping trips with her mom, and lazy afternoons by the pool with a book in hand. Life was as sweet and carefree as it had always been, each day unfolding like the perfect pages of a storybook.

But the pain—however brief— had left a lingering unease that Hanna couldn't quite shake. She hadn't told anyone about it; there hadn't been a need. It was just one isolated moment, a single sharp pang that had come and gone before she could even fully process it. Still, every now and then, when she was alone, she would find herself touching her chest, as if to reassure herself that everything was still fine.

It was probably nothing, she kept telling herself. She was young, healthy, and full of life. Whatever it was, it was surely just a fluke. A stray thought crossed her mind that maybe she should mention it to her parents, but the idea of worrying them over something so minor seemed silly. Her father was busy with the upcoming business trip, and her mother was occupied with planning the details of their vacation. There was no need to add to their burdens.

And so, Hanna pushed the incident to the back of her mind, determined to enjoy the summer that stretched out before her.

One evening, about a week after the first incident, Hanna found herself at the movie theatre with her friends. They had decided on a lighthearted romantic comedy, something easy and fun, the kind of movie that would leave them laughing as they spilled out into the night. The theatre was cool and dimly lit, the smell of popcorn filling the air as the previews flickered on the screen.

Hanna settled into her seat between Mia and Jay, a large soda in her hand. The lights dimmed further, and the opening credits rolled. For a while, everything was perfect—the kind of perfect that Hanna had come to expect. The movie was exactly what they had hoped for, full of witty banter and charming leads. The girls exchanged knowing looks during the romantic scenes, nudging each other playfully, while Jay just rolled his eyes with a hidden smirk.

Girls. He thought to himself.

But then, without warning, the pain struck again. This time, it was sharper, more insistent, and Hanna's breath caught in her throat. It felt like a hot knife slicing through her chest, stealing the air from her lungs. She stiffened in her seat, her hand clutching the armrest as she tried to ride it out, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Jay glanced at her, concern flickering across his face.
"Hanna, are you okay?" he whispered, leaning closer.

Hanna forced a smile, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... just a cramp, I think."

Jay didn't look convinced, but before he could say anything more, the pain begin to subside, leaving Hanna feeling shaken but relieved. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself as she turned her attention back to the screen. The movie continued, but Hanna found it hard to concentrate, her mind racing with questions she didn't want to face.

What was happening to her? Why was this pain returning? Was it something serious?

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. By the time the credits rolled and they exited the theatre, Hanna was doing her best to act like nothing happened. She joined in the conversation, laughing at the right moments, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She felt like she was on the outside looking in, as if a veil had come down between her and her carefree life she had always known.

That night, lying in bed, Hanna couldn't stop replaying the moment in the theatre over and over again in her mind. She stared at the ceiling, the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. The world outside was quiet, but inside, her thoughts were anything but peaceful.

She could still feel the echo of the pain, like a ghost haunting her body. It had been more intense this time, more frightening. For the first time, she began to wonder if maybe she should take it more seriously. But the thought of doctors, hospitals, and tests filled her with dread. She had never been sick before, at least not this bad. The worst she'd ever dealt with was a mild case of the flu.

And besides, how could something be wrong? She was the picture of health, always had been. Hanna closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, to forget about the pain and the questions it raised. But sleep didn't come easily that night.

The next morning, Hanna was up early, despite the restless night. She decided to go for a run, hoping that the fresh air and exercise would clear her mind. It was another beautiful day, the kind of summer morning that made everything seem possible. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the neighbourhood. The air was cool and crisp, perfect for a run.

As she jogged through the quiet streets, Hanna tried to focus on the rhythm of her breathing, the steady thump of her sneakers on the pavement. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the pain, the way it had stolen her breath, the fear that had gripped her in those moments. She pushed herself harder, trying to outrun the anxiety that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.

But then, halfway through her run, that pain hit again. It was sudden and overwhelming, stopping her in her tracks. Hanna doubled over, clutching her chest as she gasped for air. It was worse than before, sharper, more intense. The world around her seemed to tilt, the edges of her vision blurring as she fought to stay upright.

She sank to her knees, the pain radiating out from her chest, each wave more intense than the last. Panic welled up inside her, threatening to choke her. She could feel her heart racing, her body trembling. For a moment, she thought she might pass out, right there on the sidewalk.

But then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain began to fade. Hanna stayed on her knees for a long moment, breathing heavily, her hand pressed to her chest. When she finally managed to stand, she was shaky, her legs weak beneath her. She looked around, half expecting someone to have seen her, but the street was empty. She was alone.

Slowly, she made her way back home, walking instead of running. Each step felt like an effort, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn't control. The pain had been worse this time, much worse. It wasn't something she could ignore anymore. She needed to tell someone. She needed to figure out what was happening to her.

But the thought of it all—of doctors, of tests, of what they might find—filled her head with dread. She wasn't ready to face it, whatever it was. She wasn't ready for her perfect life to be anything less than perfect.

When she finally reached home, she went straight to her room, bypassing her mother in the kitchen. She couldn't face her right now, couldn't bear the to see the concern in her eyes if she told her what had happened. Instead, Hanna sat at the edge of her bed, staring out the window, her mind a whirlwind of fear and uncertainty.

Something was wrong. She knew that now. But what? And how long could she keep pretending that everything was fine before it all came crashing down?

Hanna didn't have the answers, but one thing was certain: the life she had always known, the life she had taken for granted, was beginning to slip through her fingers. And she had no idea how to stop it.