The lights in the building are already turned off, engulfing the building in complete darkness. Well, except for one particular desk, where a pile of papers illuminated by a small desk lamp can be seen.
The silence in the building is almost palpable, broken only by the occasional sound of a car passing by outside. The person at the desk is completely engrossed in her work, unaware of the time or her surroundings. The papers in front of her are scattered haphazardly, as if she has been working on them for hours.
It's clear that this person is dedicated to her work and willing to sacrifice sleep and comfort for the sake of getting things done. As the night wears on, the light from the desk lamp flickers slightly, as if it's struggling to stay on. But still, the person persists, determined to finish what she started. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she set down their pen and stretched her cramped fingers.
The pile of papers has been reduced significantly, but there's still more work to be done. With a sigh, she leans back in her chair and close her eyes for a moment before diving back into her task.
The person was about to continue her work when her sight blurred, and her head began to throb. She quickly realized that she had been staring at the computer screen for too long without taking a break. She got up from her chair and stretched her arms and legs, which was a bad move since her dizziness intensified.
She reached out to her desk to support herself but missed and stumbled forward.
"Ouch." She had hit her head on the edge of the desk.
"Sh*t," she curses as she feels the pain on her head.
She decides to take a break and sit down for a few minutes. She rubs the sore spot on her head and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.
She wanted to go home and rest in her own bed, but somehow her boss gave her this work at the last minute and pressured her to finish it by tomorrow, which is bullsh*t.
She only sighed out of frustration and didn't bother complaining about it because she didn't want to risk losing her job.
However, she didn't feel well. How can she do this with her head throbbing?
Maybe a short rest would be alright. She decided to take a quick break and closed her eyes, hoping to feel better soon.
Before doing that, she set an alarm on her phone so she wouldn't oversleep and waste the rest of her time.
Who could have thought such an act was for nothing? Since she didn't budge when the alarm went off, she never woke up again.
---
Layla opened her eyes slowly, realizing she had overslept. She immediately sat up in bed and reached for her phone to check the time. But where's her phone?
And she's in bed?!
She clearly remembered that she was inside her work building, working overtime to finish her work before the morning came.
Layla roamed her eyes around the room and realized she was not at her desk or in her office building.
She panicked and tried to sit up, but her head throbbed with pain, and she realized she couldn't move.
Why is everything blurry? She thought to herself.
Why is my body so heavy?
Despite her sight being dizzy, she roamed her eyes around the room once again and realized she didn't know the room.
Was she kidnapped, or did she have a medical emergency?
But the room she was in didn't look like a hospital.
The room she was in was huge—ten times bigger than her studio apartment. That was not all; the room was fully furnished with expensive furniture and decorations. It was clear that whoever had brought her here had money to spare.
The room was also eerily quiet, despite being beautiful.
Layla decided to tour the room and see if there were any clues as to who had brought her there. Her tour was hard for her since her body was not feeling well.
She hoped she would find something to spare her from this confusion. But after searching every corner, she found nothing of use. All she ever saw were expensive things that she didn't touch, avoiding causing any damage.
While wandering inside the room, she came across a room connected to the main one that she hadn't noticed before. And walked inside it.
It was a walk-in closet with a bunch of clothes and accessories neatly organized on shelves and hangers.
Why are the dresses in Victorian style?
She thought as she gazed weirdly towards it. Despite feeling weird about the things, she just saw, Layla still continued to explore the room and stumbled into a huge mirror.
A very huge mirror.
It was so huge that Layla could even see her whole body's reflection on it. However, something about her reflection seemed off.
Her reflection was not an exact copy of herself.
The woman in the mirror had pale white skin, whereas Layla has tan skin. And mostly, the reflection had blonde hair and red eyes.
Layla's heart began to race as she realized that she was staring at something that shouldn't be there.
Her reflection was supposed to have brown hair and brown eyes.
But this reflection was something else entirely.
Layla grabbed her hair and gasped at the sight of bright blonde locks staring back at her. Her eyes widened as she realized that something was very wrong.
She looked at the mirror once again and saw a terrified expression on the reflection's face.
Is this really my reflection?
She thought as she slowly reached out to touch the glass. The woman in the mirror copied her every move, or more accurately, reflected her moves.
Layla stayed silent while staring at her reflection as she processed all that happened. And come up with a conclusion.
Did I just die?
She thought to herself, feeling a sense of unease wash over her.
Layla slapped her face hard and immediately felt the pain of the impact.
She caressed her swollen face and immediately regretted her move.
Am I really dead?
She thought after someone died, they will be sent to somewhere with clouds everywhere or otherwise lava everywhere, but she didn't think about waking up in someone else's body.
Layla was in a state of denial and couldn't believe what is happened.
She tried to shake herself out of it, but the reality of the situation was too much to bear.
She decided to go back to the bed and lie down when she felt herself dizzy from all this crazy stuff.
As she lay down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense of it all.
Is this what they call transmigrations in novels?
Layla remembered one of her colleagues who loved this kind of concept. Transmigration stories are about one person who died and then woke up in different bodies, living different lives in different worlds.
Now that Layla has noticed, all the furniture in this room is classic and in Victorian style. No one in the modern world would furnish their house like this, right?
Or maybe those crazy billionaires would.
Now that Layla thinks about it, her life hasn't been the best, so she didn't really feel sad when she realized she died; she was just shocked about it. She knew that someday she would die because of how unhealthy her lifestyle was—eating less and having many sleepless nights. But she didn't think it would happen so soon.
Her last life was so focused on surviving that she didn't really enjoy it to the fullest.
She actually thought it was the best, as she was so tired of her life. She has to work hard to provide for her necessities and the debt that she inherited from her parents.
She still hasn't paid it off. She was far from paying it off.
I'm glad my suffering is over. Now that I have a new life, I want to live it to the fullest.
She thought as her eyelids became heavy and she drifted off to sleep.
***