╰┈➤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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I awaken slowly, drifting out of slumber like a feather on a breeze. For a moment, everything feels suspended, untouched by time. The silence in the room is almost profound, broken only by the faint hum of life beyond the window. My bed cradles me in its warmth, the blankets snug around my body, and the pillow beneath my head as soft as a whispered lullaby. The coolness of the sheets against my skin is perfect—inviting me to stay cocooned in their gentle embrace.
As my eyes begin to adjust to the dimness, the moonlight seeps in through the curtains, bathing the room in a silvery glow. Shadows stretch languidly across the floor, as though the world itself is resting in quiet reflection. Everything feels so still, so beautifully paused. I can hear the soft rhythm of my own breath, steady and serene, as though the universe itself allows me this moment of pure calm.
In the tranquility, it's as if the night holds its breath, waiting for me to savor this fleeting peace, a sanctuary from everything outside.
I sit up slowly, casting a glance at the clock on my bedside table, wincing as the bright display pierces the tranquility of the room. It reads 3:05 AM—far too early for the world to be stirring, let alone for me.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I feel the chill of the hardwood floor beneath my bare feet. In the dim light, my room reveals its usual chaos: clothes strewn across the floor like discarded memories and the desk littered with papers and old coffee mugs, remnants of late-night musings. I make a mental note to tackle the mess later, though I know the thought will likely dissolve in the haze of morning.
With a weary sigh, I tread carefully towards the door, navigating the familiar minefield of clutter with practiced ease. I twist the doorknob, and my eyebrows knit together at the sight that greets me. Mihi sits before me, her back turned, cradling a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. Her hair is swept into a messy bun, tendrils escaping like whispers of forgotten dreams.
The image strikes me with a wave of familiarity, so profound it sends a ripple of discomfort through me. Mihi seems to sense my presence and turns in my direction, her dark under-eye bags a testament to the restless night she's endured. It's clear she hasn't slept much.
"Dae? What's wrong? Why are you up so late?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.
I open my mouth to respond, but before the words can take shape, a dizzying blur clouds my vision, and my head spins violently—as if the very fabric of reality has shifted, spinning faster than it should. My knees buckle beneath me, forcing me to lean heavily against the wall for support, the cool surface grounding me in this disorienting moment.
