Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
This must be a dream.
I stood up, staring at my phone, wondering why the date still hadn't changed.
I see; I thought as I try to make a conclusion for this dream of mine.
All that thinking I did about in class must have conjured this.
Though it's strange, everything feels real—the sound of the early morning, the cold wind, the hum of passing cars.
Well then, if this is just a dream, I'll do what I always do.
As I prepared for school, I was struck by how real the sensations of showering and slipping into my uniform felt. I made my way to the train station, the familiar sights greeting me.
Everything was just as it had always been.
The sunrise cast a warm glow over the landscape, the scenery vibrant as ever, and there she was—the same foreign girl who appeared lonely on the train during my commute home.
It felt as though time had looped back on itself.
Maybe, since this is just a dream replaying earlier events, I could finally muster the courage to ask her who she is.
But just as I prepared to rise and approach her, an invisible weight pressed down on my chest, pinning me to my seat. It was as if chains were anchoring me to the ground.
Even in this dream, fear clung to me. My heart raced, tightening as nausea washed over me. Dread clouded my thoughts—fear of being misunderstood, fear of appearing like a creep.
I couldn't even find the strength to speak to this girl in my dream.
(How utterly pathetic.)
I turned my gaze to the train window, searching for calm. "Why am I like this?" I wondered, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Every time I try to speak, that paralyzing feeling never leaves. Even when I know the answer in class, I can't bring myself to raise my hand, gripped by the fear of judgment. Why do I let this consume me?
The train ride felt endless, my mind swirling with questions about why I was trapped in this dream and why I couldn't approach her. My legs bounced nervously, and sweat began to bead on my palms.
When we finally reached our destination, I jumped up, positioning myself in front of the doors, heart pounding as I remembered how she had looked at me before I left.
I stole a glance at her.
Still the same—she was looking at me, and the anxiety returned.
As I walked to school, everything that had happened earlier unfolded again: the same people, the same cars passing, even the two kids chasing a ball.
This dream is really freaking me out. Though everything seems normal, we had a quiz in the morning classes. Maybe I could cheat off the dream and get a perfect score.
[Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.]
Just like I thought, I got a perfect score. It felt strange, but I couldn't help but chuckle. Had I outsmarted the dream?
As I walked toward the cafeteria, I noticed the same faces I'd seen in real life, all walking past me. The familiar hum of chatter grew louder as I approached the doors.
Would she be sitting alone again? The thought lingered as I walked down the hallway.
When I stepped into the cafeteria, there she was.
YOU ARE READING
Timeless Regrets.
RomanceA young, silent college student accustomed to his predictable routine encounters a girl from another country, whose vibrant spirit shakes him from his self-imposed isolation. As their friendship blossoms, he is forced to confront the regrets and pai...
