❛𝓜𝔂 𝓜𝓮𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓲𝓪❞ (𝓫𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱)

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚡

Chapter Six: Blue Sky

The morning light creeps through the blinds, and I can already feel the weight of another day pressing down on me.

I open my eyes slowly, trying to hold onto those last few moments of quiet before reality kicks in.

The room is still, except for the faint hum of traffic outside and the distant sound of birds somewhere in the city.

I drag myself up, feeling like I'm running on autopilot.

It's the same routine, every single day. I roll out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor, sending a shiver up my spine.

I stretch, cracking my neck and rubbing my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep that cling to me like a second skin.

The room feels emptier than usual.

Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me, or maybe it's that lingering sense of something missing - something I can't quite put my finger on.

I push the thought away, heading to the bathroom.

The mirror greets me with a reflection I barely recognize, a face that's grown tired and worn out from endless nights of overthinking and too many memories that refuse to fade.

I splash water on my face, the coldness waking me up, grounding me in the present.

"Alright," I tell myself, "new day, same shit.".

I grab a toothbrush and start brushing my teeth, staring at my own eyes in the mirror, like I'm searching for some sign of life.

But there's nothing there, just the same old shadows, the same tired expression.

After getting dressed, I grab my bag and head to the kitchen.

I don't bother with breakfast; I'm not really hungry.

I grab a black coffee instead, strong enough to jolt my system awake.

It's bitter, but I like it that way. It feels honest, like it matches the taste of the morning itself.

I glance at my phone - no new messages, just the usual notifications I'll probably ignore.

I'm about to head out when I remember her.

That thought, that feeling, flashes through my mind for a split second.

I shake it off, push it down, because I can't afford to get lost in that right now.

There's too much to do, too many things that need my attention.

As I step out into the world, the chill of the morning air hits me, and I breathe it in like it's the first breath I've taken in years.

The city is already alive, buzzing with the sound of people going about their lives.

And here I am, just another face in the crowd, lost in the flow of it all.

"Alright" I mutter to myself as I tighten my grip on my bag. "Let's get through this.".

Another day. Another chance to survive.