╰┈➤In a world where the line between life and death blurs, a girl named Kwon Dae is haunted by the tragic loss of her five childhood friends, in a devastating car crash. Three months after their funeral, Dae's nights are filled with vivid visions an...
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Trigger Warning: This chapter contains themes of accidents, references to blood, and discussions of suicide. Reader discretion is advised. Please prioritize your well-being while reading.
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My mouth falls agape as I gasp for air, filling my lungs with the much-needed oxygen that seems to ebb away in the chaos of my thoughts. A relentless pounding echoes in my head, each throb feeling like a hammer striking against the fragile walls of my skull, rendering my vision slightly blurred. The harsh brightness of the room feels almost assaulting, each ray of light a jagged shard piercing through the fog of my consciousness.
Wait...
Room?
As the familiar scent of shampoo mingles with the gentle trickle of water from the faucet, a wave of recognition washes over me, slowly cutting through the haze. I blink several times, straining to adjust my eyes to the blinding brightness that envelops me. The tiny bathroom, with its sterile white walls, confirms my surroundings.
A sense of confusion tightened its grip around my chest as my gaze flitted around the familiar space, desperately searching for clues to unravel the enigma of what had just transpired. My eyes finally settled on the floor, where shampoo bottles, toothbrushes, and a few scattered toiletries lay in disarray, creating a chaotic tableau that mirrored the turmoil in my mind.
Without a second thought, I stumble out of the bathroom, my mind racing. My vision locks onto the calendar hanging on the wall, and my heart nearly stops. July 9th.
My body freezes.
I made it.
I'm in the past. Specifically, the day everything went upside down.
"My—my phone..."
An urgent wave of panic washes over me, propelling me around the room in a frantic search for the small device. My eyes dart across the chaotic landscape of my bed until they finally land on the phone nestled beneath a pile of pillows. I snatch it up and turn it on, my heart racing with fervent hope as I dial his number.
"Please, please pick up." I mutter under my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears as the ringing echoes in the silence of the room.
"Come on—come on—come on!"I bite down on my lip, anxiety gnawing at my insides as the call continues to divert to voicemail.
