As I woke up, my consciousness merged with this body, a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and panic washed over me. My heart raced, pounding against my chest like a wild animal desperate to break free. The realization hit me like a thunderbolt—I had died, and now, I found myself in a body that wasn't mine.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I grappled with the enormity of the situation. I mourned the loss of my own life, my own identity, and the people I left behind. The grief engulfed me, threatening to suffocate my every breath. I yearned for the familiarity of my own body, my own memories, and the life I had known.
Every aspect of this new existence overwhelmed me. The foreign sensations, the memories that didn't belong to me, the name and identity that were now mine—it was as if I was trapped in an alternate reality, disconnected from everything I once held dear.
Hysteria gripped me as I questioned the nature of my existence. Was this some cruel twist of fate? A cosmic joke played on my soul? How could I make sense of this bizarre and disorienting experience?
Fear consumed me, as I grappled with the uncertainty of my future. Would I ever find my way back to where I belonged? Or was I condemned to live out the rest of my days in this borrowed body, forever a stranger to myself?
I desperately clung to the remnants of my former life, desperately trying to hold on to the memories, the emotions, and the essence of who I once was. But they slipped through my fingers like sand, leaving me feeling unmoored and lost.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness. The face that stared back at me was a constant reminder of the life I had lost, a life that was now nothing more than a distant memory.
The hysteria within me threatened to consume my every thought. Questions swirled in my mind, the answers just out of reach. How could I navigate this strange new existence? How could I find purpose and meaning in a life that felt foreign and unwelcome?
There was a certain thing I knew. I need to continue with the life God has served me in a new plate. On the study table the room that I think belonged to y/n , laid a diary.
I went through the entire diary just in case I don't know anything about y/n's life and her surroundings.
According to the diary, I need to get ready now. Since she has school today.
In the main hall, I greeted everyone warmly, knowing that y/n had a special bond with her grandmother. I decided to visit her room first and spent some quality time together, gaining a deeper understanding of why their relationship was so close.
Having had a fulfilling breakfast, I headed to college accompanied by my older brother, Leon. Although he excelled academically and had a good heart, I was aware of his tendency to make double-meaning jokes. I hoped he would refrain from making them in my presence.
Once at college, I noticed that y/n's campus was surrounded by attractive guys, which made my heart flutter. However, y/n never seemed to pay them much attention, so I resolved to act in a similar manner and maintain my composure.
As the day went on, I hung out with some of her friends, although I felt a bit awkward in their company. Later, I met up with my brother, Leon, who kindly gave me money for lunch—a gesture that made me immensely grateful.
As the day came to an end, we returned home, freshened up, and decided to meet our friends at the arcade. We had a blast, and during our outing, Agustine proposed to Alana, creating an atmosphere of excitement and joy. We celebrated their love with a small drive-through stop at McDonald's and returned home contentedly.
The following day, after school, I refreshed myself and delved into my studies, with my supportive brother, Leon, lending a hand in solving some questions. We had dinner together and eventually retired for the night.
Feeling a sense of loneliness, I decided to watch a few drama episodes before going to sleep.
As I went on with my new life, things started to feel more familiar and comfortable. I settled into a routine, going through the motions and occasionally recalling snippets from my own past. Memories would pop up every now and then, reminding me of who I used to be.
One day, as I strolled around the college campus, a breeze blew by and triggered some old memories. It made me grin, thinking about how lucky I was to get a fresh start and experience life from a different angle.
In between classes, I stumbled upon some cool hangout spots on campus. There was this hidden garden behind the library that I really liked. I'd chill there sometimes, reminiscing about the past while enjoying the pretty flowers and peaceful atmosphere. It was a nice escape, a chance to appreciate the here and now.
Now and then, I faced situations where y/n's personality clashed with my own memories. It could get a bit awkward, but I saw it as a chance to grow. I challenged myself to understand y/n's choices and embrace the unique experiences that came with this new life. It was like a crash course in empathy and understanding.
Over time, I formed closer bonds with the people in y/n's life. My grandma became like a best friend, and we'd have heartfelt chats and make awesome memories together. I also got more comfortable with my friends, and hanging out with them became less weird and more fun. The laughter and good times we had at the arcade brought us closer than ever.
When I needed some downtime, I'd indulge in my guilty pleasure—watching dramas. They used to hit me hard back in the day, and now they were just a nostalgic escape. I'd lose myself in those fictional stories, drawing inspiration and reflecting on my own journey.
Through it all, I marveled at the chance I'd been given—a chance to live life from a different angle, to try new things, and find happiness in unexpected places. Memories of my past served as guiding lights, reminding me of lessons learned and growth achieved.
With each passing day, I embraced this new life with open arms, holding onto the memories of my past while savoring the present. This opportunity had given me a fresh perspective, a chance to see the beauty in life from a different lens. And as I walked through the college halls, I knew that this journey would continue shaping me into a better version of myself.
But also I filled every vein of y/n's body with revenge of the 14 year old Cheresmy.
And I pledge to bring her justice.
15 days later.
I was sitting in my room when my phone suddenly rung. It was from an uknown number. I picked up.
" Hello ?"
" Good evening, Mr. Richelieu, the Zicronyna virus bombs are successfully planted. We are waiting for your command to explode them. ", she said.
" What the actual fudge ?! " , I whispered.
" Sir ? " , the lady asked again
I immediately cut the phone.
What was that? So Zicornya was a manmade virus. It was not a compound. It was a godamn virus.