Timeless Regrets.

Time's Running. (Chapter - 1)

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Time doesn't wait.

The alarm shattered the silence, jerking me from sleep. I bolted upright, heart racing, as if I'd been torn from a dream I couldn't remember. My eyes wandered to the window, where the sky hung heavy and dark, untouched by morning light.

My name's Jonah Rodriguez. I'm 19, a college freshman trying to figure out where I fit in this world—or if I fit at all.

I reached for my phone, the cold glow of the screen cutting through the dimness. 4:00 AM. September 4th, 2013.

Another day. Another chance. Or so they say.

I quickly stood up and walked out of my room, noticing that no one was around. "Looks like my parents have already gone to work," I thought. I hurried into the kitchen and prepared myself a meal, the familiar motions calming my racing mind.

I made my way to the dining table as the meal cooked and started chowing down after saying my prayers.

After eating, I stepped into a cold shower, the icy water jolting my senses awake. The chill danced across my skin, leaving me feeling sharp and refreshed. Once out, I brushed my teeth, the faint scent of mint lingering as I slipped into my uniform: a crisp white polo that contrasted warmly against my brown skin, paired with black pants and polished shoes.

Standing before the mirror, I fumbled with my necktie, frustration bubbling as I wrestled it into place. My eyes drifted to the clock's reflection. My stomach dropped.

Panic.

Grabbing my shoulder bag in a blur, I dashed out the door, the cool morning air biting at my face as I hit the quiet streets. The pavement felt familiar beneath my hurried steps; the faint hum of crickets still lingered in the dark, peaceful dawn.

But there was no time to savor the calm.

Crap, I'm gonna miss the train if I don't hurry.

Relief washed over me as the train station came into view. When I entered I quickly bought a ticket, my heart pounding, and hurried onto the platform. The train stood waiting, its doors open to welcome passengers—college students with sleepy faces, office workers clutching their morning coffee, and a few early risers going about their routine.

I stepped into the middle carriage, heading for my usual seat. It was always my go-to, tucked away from the crowded chaos of the front and rear carriages. The middle was quieter, more private—a small sanctuary in the rush of the morning commute.

Settling into my seat as the train started moving, I took a moment to glance around. 

As expected, the carriage was sparsely populated, a handful of people scattered in their preferred corners. I gazed out the window as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The sun's glow stretched across the mountains, their slopes wrapped in thick forests. Birds darted into the open sky, their calls breaking the stillness of the waking world.

Though I saw this scenery every day, it never failed to captivate me.

This seat, this view, this routine—it was all so familiar. I knew every crack in the windowpane, every subtle creak of the carriage. The same faces drifted past me day after day—strangers who felt like fleeting constants in my life.

But today, something was different.

Across from me sat a girl, likely my age, with light brown curly hair and Western features, dressed in my university's uniform. She must be new?