"I don't need a happy ending. I just need another chance."
-???'s Personal Journal Entries
***
On the eve of Christmas, about an hour before midnight, a woman sat in her car — unblinking.
The car was flipped upside down, with half of the roof buried inch-deep into the snow. The woman, still dressed in her office attire, slumped through the seatbelt as her hands reached down for an unseen object below. Blood trickled from her forehead generously down to her arms.
Despite the grotesque scenery, an audible voice can be heard somewhere, echoing within the crushed, beat-up car. A lost voice calling from the cracked phone — the woman's name — unaware that its owner was long gone. It would be morning before the authorities discovered her body, a day or two before the news reached her company, while the person on the other end of the line...may never know what happened at all.
What a crappy ending, the woman thought, as the light faded from her eyes.
***
Car crash at Lennox Road kills 35-year-old woman
Published by: The Daily Express
Date: December 25, 2021 - 7:55PM
TW: Suicide mention, graphic depictions of violence
CITY B - A white car was found at the bottom of Lennox Road, suspected to have crashed due to the slippery road last night, December 24. The vehicle, which was found 30 feet off the main road, included a 35-year-old woman who was identified as Amelia Sola in the driver's seat, who was reported dead on the spot by the authorities.
"We're still conducting investigations on the details behind the crash," Chief Police Officer Fabian Garcia says in an interview. "Accident appears to be the most plausible explanation, but the CCTV caught another car heading in the opposite direction around the same time. We also need to cross-examine the car itself."
Garcia also adds that they have yet to rule out suicide, considering Lennox Road's "reputation" for having witnessed so many attempts in the past few years. The most recent case, which involved a forty-year-old trying to jump off a cliff, was only a month away from today's crash, dating back to November 23.
Meanwhile, medical reports indicate that Sola died from internal bleeding, with traces of hypothermia after being exposed to the cold overnight. No family member has claimed the body as of press time.
This is a developing story.
Check related articles:
'Don't try to save me': 40-year-old man rescued at Lennox Road
Christmas rush causes traffic on Acker Highway
Family steps forward on recent Lennox crash: 'It was our fault'
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***
In another world, a young girl opened her eyes.
She found herself in a lavish room she has no recollection of booking, with gilded bedposts and silk sheets that seemed to be beyond her salary. She wore a nightgown that was too frilly for any hospital — or any medical purposes, for that matter. She looked at her arms and didn't know what to make of the lack of bandages and dextrose attached.
"I thought you were dead," a voice spoke. Only then did the young girl realize that she was not alone in the room: beside her, waiting at the bedside, was a child with clear blue eyes and blond hair that seemed to be lifted off a webtoon.
The young girl stared at him. This must be a dream or one of those last-minute delusions that comforted people at the hour of their deaths. Or maybe hours beyond that.
"I am dead," she clarified. The young girl was Amelia Sola, who crashed her car on Christmas Eve and ended up bleeding to death in the snow. She knew that much. That night, she had felt her heart stop beating and her body turn cold. She sat there, stuck in her seatbelt, wondering if dying always took this long. She didn't believe in an afterlife, but in the off-chance it existed, she had considered filing complaints regarding their soul collection services, who had no business in letting her experience a considerable amount of pain in her final moments.
And then, as if the heavens finally got tired of her threats, she died.
"No, you did not." The child said through gritted teeth. It was a sight to behold; the young boy seemed to be unable to look her in the eye, as he clenched the sheets with his tiny fists.
Amelia Sola did not know this boy. She didn't even know where she was, or what she is. But one thing was certain:
"Are you crying?" She said, a little incredulous because if anything was worse than dying, that would be children crying. For Amelia, children are blobs of unfathomable beings that cannot be quelled by simple intimidation or bribery — they can sense when you are lying, but they also don't like it when you tell them the truth.
This particular child fits the description down to the letter. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he was sniffing as if his life depended on it. But it was futile: tears flowed down his cheeks in a silent scream, and snot dripped down his nose.
Amelia couldn't understand why her heart squeezed at the sight. Almost instinctively, she sat up and used the hems of her dress to wipe his face off, a motion so automatic and familiar it felt like she'd done it all her life.
The boy's eyes widened. Suddenly, he reached out and...tackled Amelia in a hug.
"Don't do that ever again, 'Sana!" He wailed, like a dram finally breaking open. "I'll hate you if you die! I mean it! I'll really, really hate you!"
What the hell?
The child clung to her like a lifeline, much to Amelia's surprise. She wondered when she acquired a brat in all her thirty-five years on this godforsaken planet. There was no time to go ask for the child's parents, guardian, or who he was. She could only let the child cry his heart out, as he mumbled half-hearted threats of running away and rebelling if she ever stayed out in the cold again.
If this was a dream, she thought, then it was a beautiful one — she didn't think anyone could cry for her like this.
They stayed like that for a few moments, with Amelia standing awkwardly still while the young boy poured what remained of his tiny, little heart. "You're so lucky we found you in time. What would you have done if we weren't there?"
At those words, Amelia thought back on the many hours she spent in that car. Is it possible that someone found her, after all?
Her gaze flew across the well-adorned room and landed nearby the mirror. At that moment, her tiniest hope of survival was crushed into pieces.
A few feet away from her, the reflection of a young girl stared back, wearing the same blue eyes and blond hair as the boy in her lap.
Not a trace of the old Amelia Sola to be found.
***
The boy's name was Maximillian Castus, but the boy insisted she called him 'Max'.
Amelia has yet to understand why the name sounded familiar, but there was only so much she could ask the boy before he burst into tears again, out of fear that she'd lost her memories. She didn't have the heart to tell him that this body had probably lost more than that — that whoever she used to be was probably gone forever, replaced by an unknown entity.
For now, all she knew was that this 'Sana' was an incredibly dear person to Max. A sister, if she had to guess, but how exactly that came to be, she didn't know. She would definitely remember if she had a cute brother like this in her past life.
Even if the said brother had wiped snot all over her clothes and completely took over her bed, she supposed some things could be forgiven — after all, the little boy was probably tired from all that crying. As he laid on her bed, out like a light, Amelia used the opportunity to investigate her surroundings, desperate for any bit of clue about who she was.
Make no mistake: she remembered her old name and the life that came with it. Before she died, Amelia had spent half a decade working her way up the corporate ladder, half her life filling up her apartment with expensive trinkets and appliances. She didn't even get the chance to have a family of her own — unless one counted the merchandise that filled her storage room. That would explain why she was driving home from work on Christmas eve, and from overtime, too.
Sounds like a typical isekai set-up, Amelia lamented but immediately willed down the thought as soon as it surfaced. If only she could forget that part of her life, then everything would be perfect.
She spent a great amount of time poring through the closets and drawers, only to find spare bedsheets and baubles that did little to confirm her suspicions. The room was too bare — almost as if it was more of a guestroom than her actual room.
Her gaze landed at the door.
***
As it turned out, this place was bigger than expected.
The hallways were filled with expensive vases, with huge portraits and paintings hanging all over the walls. It reminded Amelia of those Victorian Era-themed stories she liked to read — with velvet curtains, glass chandeliers, and ornate woodcarvings that decorated the staircases.
She stopped by a huge portrait at the end of the hall, depicting the family who might have owned this place. They wore clothes befitting of the mansion's grandeur: fluffy petticoats, corsets, and waistcoats for men. But one person stood out in the portrait: a lady dressed in red, with piercing eyes and the meanest glare she has ever seen.
If Amelia closed her eyes, she could almost see another person in that woman's place — with animated features and a dialogue box popping up in the bottom part of the screen, waiting for her to pick. It was almost comical how this place brought back so much fondness, as though the higher powers have plucked out a particularly nostalgic memory from her previous life and allowed her to relive it.
"There you are," a voice behind her suddenly said. For some reason, a chill ran down Amelia's spine as she heard it.
She turned to find the woman in the portrait, standing in front of her with arms crossed. She was flanked by a maid and a man in a trench coat.
"We've been looking everywhere for you," The woman said, in a voice so sweet it could spoil milk. "You shouldn't be up and about, silly girl. You just had a fever."
A fever, she thought. I was dead a few moments ago!
Amelia stared at the woman — everything about her was too uncanny to be a coincidence. She rubbed her eyes, squinted, and pinched herself to check if this wasn't some hallucination. The portrait was one thing, but to see that person in the flesh was another.
Same blue eyes. Trademark red dress. A mole at the bottom of her lip.
"Come," the woman said, holding out her hands. "Let your Aunt Felicia take care of you."
In another life, in the same one that Amelia just left, there would be two dialogue boxes that would pop up after this question:
One, where the MC takes 'Aunt Felicia's hand and thanks her.
Two, where the MC takes a step back from 'Aunt Felicia' and tries to run away.
In another life, it took Amelia 12 endings before she figured out that choosing the first option always guaranteed a happy end, while the second sealed your doom. It seemed that right from the very start, the MC's fate would be heavily intertwined with this person — Felicia Maure, one of the main antagonists in the visual game, Tales of the Black Rose.