What's this? Where is this?
Shimmering lights—tiny, glowing like fireflies—float around me. They flicker in and out of existence, dancing like they have a purpose. It's dark. Too dark. I can't see anything beyond the soft light they emit. But the lights... they're calling me. Pulling me forward.
I follow them.
There's an exit—a crack of brightness ahead. I step toward it.
A sudden burst of light blinds me.
I squint.
It's... beautiful.
A green land stretches endlessly under a brilliant sky. The wind brushes my face, cool and fresh, and everything smells like rain and leaves. It feels right. Real. I take a step forward. The soil is soft beneath my feet.
Just perfect.
I could live here forever.
But something feels... off. My feet—wet?
I look down.
I'm standing on water.
No, wait—I'm sinking.
The water is spreading fast. Creeping over the land, stealing color, swallowing everything. The breeze is gone. The sky is dimming.
No, no, no… I'm drowning. I can't move. I can't breathe. Someone, anyone—help...!
The land is gone. The light, gone. Darkness wraps around me like a blanket I can't escape.
But the water... it's warm. Too warm. Why?
10:00 AM – Alarm blaring.
Sunlight pours into the room like it has something to prove.
I open my eyes. The yellow walls stare back at me—dull and suffocating. The same old room. Cold. Empty.
Maybe it was just a dream. A beautiful one, though. I still feel... warm.
For a moment, I lie there, silent. The warmth fades, replaced by the usual hollowness.
My phone buzzes. I pick it up.
"Yeah, I know. I'm going to Grandma's today," I say, flatly. "No need to call twice."
Typical. They never ask, just tell.
Visit Grandma? No. It's another setup. A marriage meeting, veiled as a family visit. They could've said it outright. But no—make it sound warm, traditional.
I get up and head to the closet.
Yellow.
The color I hate most. But apparently, it's her favorite. Written right there on the biodata. The "first daughter of a leading cosmetic company," chosen by my family for a union of convenience.
Yellow shirt. Ironed. Laid out.
I sigh and put it on.
The dining table is already set. Perfect as always. The air smells like luxury and routine.
I sit.
My parents don't speak. They don't need to. Their expectations are etched into every bite.
I chew mechanically.
But my mind drifts—back to that day.
"This is Miss Nova," my father had said, showing me a pristine folder. "Her father owns 'The Shades.' Only daughter. Smart. Beautiful. Groomed to take over after him."
A perfect match, they said.
The food grows cold on my plate.
"But Dad... I want to finish my degree."
"Shut up. I'm not asking. Grandma already invited her. Sunday. Go. Be presentable. Read her biodata and wear her favorite color. Show them what the Rhynes family really is."
This is what life is. A decision factory.
Everything's been laid out like a business plan—my education, my relationships, even my future children, I bet.
I'm not even angry. Not anymore.
Just... tired.
Empty.
I step into the backseat of the car.
"Take me to Grandma's."
The driver nods. Silence returns.
Outside the window, life plays out like a movie I'm not part of. A little boy chases after his balloon. A couple shares a laugh at a café. A mother holds her daughter's hand tight as they cross the street.
They all seem real.
But I feel... separate. As if the glass between us is more than just glass. Like I'm floating outside the world, watching instead of living.
I lean my head against the window.
My thoughts wander—back to the book I'm secretly reading. The only thing that feels alive. That boy in the story, born with nothing, yet somehow his world mattered more than mine ever did.
He had a purpose. He found magic. He fought.
I wish...
Screech.
Horns. Tires. A flash of white.
CRASH!
Screams. Metal twisting. Time slows.
"Call the ambulance!"
Pain.
Darkness again.
But something's there.
Warm.
Calling me back.