In the autumn chill in the downtown Saturday bustle – couples strolling hand-in-hand, buskers strumming melancholic tunes, and the smell of roasted chestnuts and pumpkin spice lattes hung heavy in the air.

A couple was sitting on one of the benches. The woman, Amelia, was staring at the cup of coffee that they bought earlier with a pretty difficult face before glancing at her boyfriend, Victor who seemed to be really focused on his phone.

"Hey," she began, her voice tight. Victor finally looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before being replaced by curiosity. "Yeah?"

"We need to talk," she said, her smile faltering. 

Amelia tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit of hers that used to be endearing. Now, it just felt pointed. 

Victor furrowed his brow, a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. "Talk? What's going on?"

"Victor, listen to me first. Please." Amelia said strongly and he nodded, trying to calm down. "Ok." 

She took a deep breath. "It's about...us."

The crowd seemed to thin around them as if the city itself held its breath and the bustling sounds of the city faded into the background as the weight of those words hung in the air.

"Us?" he echoed, his voice sharp. "What about us?"

"It's just…" Amelia trailed her words, hesitant before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

"We haven't been… really happy." She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. "For a while now."

"I think we're heading in different directions with our life and I felt that I need space to figure things out, Victor," she admitted with the words tasting like ashes in her mouth.

His eyes widened, disbelief settling in. "But we've been through so much together. Can't we work through this?"

She shook her head, strands of her chestnut hair falling across her face. "Sometimes, it's better to let go before things get too complicated. I hope you understand."

Desperation etched across Victor's face as he reached for her hand. "Noooo, please. We can make it work. Just give me a chance."

She hesitated, torn between her decision and the emotions bubbling within. 

Before she could respond, a distant sound grew louder, a low rumble filling the air. Both of their eyes widened as they turned toward the noise.

"What's happening?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and concern in his voice.

Suddenly, a surreal sight unfolded before them – a massive trunk appeared out of nowhere, hurtling towards them with surprising speed. 

Panic seized both of them at the sight.

In that split second, the world slowed down, and out of nowhere, Amelia shoved him with all her might while simultaneously screaming, "Victor, move!" 

He stumbled back, phone clattering to the ground, just as the monstrous trunk of the car slammed into Amelia, the force of the impact throwing her off the bench in a sickening arc. 

Time seemed to stop completely. Victor, frozen in a state of horrified disbelief, watched as Amelia's body collided mid-air with a nearby lamppost before crumpling lifelessly onto the ground.

The screech of metal on metal finally ended as the runaway truck, its momentum spent, shuddered to a stop. The city noises returned in a deafening rush – sirens wailing closer, shouts of panicked witnesses, the frantic honking of horns.

But for Victor, the world was muted. He stumbled forward, his legs shaky, disbelief battling with a rising wave of nausea. 

He reached Amelia, his hand hovering over her still form. He couldn't bring himself to touch her.

A choked sob escaped his lips as he saw the unnatural angle her arm twisted at, the stain blooming on her formerly vibrant jacket.

"AMEEEELLLIIIAAAAAAAA…..!!!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

!!!

Gasping, Victor bolted upright in his bed. His eyes snapped wide open and his chest heaved, each breath rugged and uneven.

Sweat clung to his skin, cold and clammy despite the warmth of the room and he could feel that his heart was beating frantically inside his ribs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he rasped, trying to force his breathing under control. Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down into his hairline.

When Victor's breathing was finally under control, he covered his face with both hands and through the gaps of his fingers, he somehow noticed that the sheets tangled around his legs were slick with moisture. 

Victor lightly shook his head, sigh and closing his eyes shut. He then lightly rubbed the corners of his eyes with both hands. 

After a moment, he managed to croak out a question. "Why the hell am I dreaming about that again?" 

He knows it was just a dream. A bad one, sure, but a dream nonetheless. Fifteen years. Fifteen damn years had passed since that day. Why the hell was it haunting him now?

Victor then opened his eyes again, staring at the flickering light on the ceiling. The question hung heavy in the air, unanswered. 

"Forget it." He blurted, knowing better than anyone that dwelling wouldn't bring her back to him. With a sigh that carried the weight of the past five years, Victor threw back the covers. 

Sleep, it seemed, was a luxury he wouldn't be indulging in for a while. Without thinking much, Victor scanned his bedroom. 

It was a surprisingly modest space, adorned with a simple mix of furniture and a scattering of a few personal belongings that he had.

He then glances at the faint glow of his digital clock displayed at 6:12 AM, and a long sigh soon escapes from his mouth.

"It's still way too early…" Victor muttered quietly, tossed himself back onto the bed, and soon stared at the ceiling as his mind wondered what his next steps would be. As he immerses in the question, Victor notices some kind of smell coming from his body and takes a small whiff of it. 

"Urghh…I'm stink" He groaned, his face crumbling from the backlash of the smell. "I definitely need a shower right now."

Throwing the covers back, Victor swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a groan. He then stretched his arms over his head, letting out a low groan as his spine popped satisfyingly. 

"Ugh, getting old is no joke," he muttered, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to loosen the tension.

After a couple of minutes, Victor gets up from the bed, feeling the cool touch of the hardwood floor beneath his feet. He then navigated through the dimly lit room to find the switch for the lights. 

"Goddammit, my eyes…" Victor groans, blinking against the sudden brightness after turning on the lights, and quickly makes his way to the door.

Reaching for the doorknob, he paused. A strange heavy feeling settled in his chest once again, causing him to wonder why that nightmare reappeared after a long time.

"No, no, it is just a dream," he muttered to himself, forcing his grip to loosen. "Just a damn bad dream."

But a nagging voice in the back of his head wouldn't be silenced. What if the dream meant something? What if it was a sign of bad things to come? He scoffed at the superstitious thought, but it clung to him like a burr.

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, he forcibly pushed the thought aside in his mind and left the room after reaching for the doorknob again and opening it.

Along the small journey, he noticed a small soft glow emanating in the hallway mirror and went to it. Standing in front of the mirror and looking at the reflection, he can see the image of his tired dishevelled self.

"Great, I look like I've been in a wrestling match with my pillow all night," he muttered under his breath, looking unimpressed by it. As Victor was rubbing any remnants of sleep from his eyes that remained with a tired hand, he also took a moment to assess his appearance in the mirror. 

After letting out a resigned sigh, Victor continued his journey to the bathroom, a quiet mumbled commentary accompanying his movements. "Why do mornings have to be so tiring?"

Despite his protest, the universe remained indifferent, continuing its daily routine.

"Urgh…cold!" He exclaimed, involuntarily crossing his hands against each other due to the morning coldness that struck him the second he entered the bathroom.

Huumm Huuumm

The ventilation fan made a soft hum alongside the bathroom being lit up after Victor had turned on a switch that was located nearby.

"Let's hope I didn't drop the soap in the shower last night," he jokingly said, doing his best to adapt to the cold.

As Victor walked near the sink and undressed himself, he casually stared at the neatly folded towels on the rack and a couple of skincare products on the sink. 

With a casual toss, he threw the clothes into the laundry hamper located in between the rack and sink. He then stepped into the shower after turning the handle on and patiently waited for the perfect temperature. 

As steam began to rise, the shower transformed into a warm embrace. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as Victor tested the water with his hand, feeling the cool sensation.

"Ah, that's the stuff," Victor sighed, letting out a low moan of relief as the tension in his muscles started to melt away as he stepped fully into the shower.

Reaching for the shelf in the shower, his fingers brushed against the familiar cool bottles of shampoo and body wash. He paused, picking up the sleek, lavender-scented body wash. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

"Lavender Fields," he murmured, reading the name on the bottle. For a moment, in his mind, he was transported back years ago before the incident. He could practically smell the fragrant steam swirling around him, feeling the shower water's warmth cascading down his back.

"Victor, are you serious?" a voice, unmistakably Amelia's, echoed in his memory. "You're telling me you've never used anything other than that generic stuff?"

He had rolled his eyes at the time, a playful defiance in his tone. "It cleans me, doesn't it?"

"Barely," Amelia had retorted, a playful shove sending him off balance against the shower wall. 

"Here, try this." She said, thrusting the lavender-scented bottle into his hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He had grumbled under his breath but secretly enjoyed the way her touch lingered on his skin. He'd used a dollop of the unfamiliar body wash, the scent filling the shower with a calming aroma.

"Whoa," he'd admitted, surprised by the way it lathered and left his skin feeling soft. "Okay, this stuff is actually…nice."

The memory brought a smile to his face. It wasn't just the body wash; it was the little moments, the playful arguments, the way Amelia always seemed to know exactly what he needed, even before he did.

He shook his head, dispelling the reverie from his mind. 

"Alright, enough with the sappy memories," he muttered, squeezing a generous amount of the lavender body wash onto his hand, the scent offering a pleasant contrast to the warm steam swirling around him. The tiled enclosure echoed with the sound of water droplets as he rinsed away the suds.

Next in line was the shampoo, its scent a harmonious blend of pine and citrus filled the air with a fragrant freshness as he lathered his hair. Suddenly, the water pressure dropped out of nowhere, and the hot stream turned lukewarm. 

"Ugh, no! Not now!" he yelled.

"This is the third time this happened this month!" Victor scowled, switching the handle back and forth between hot and cold, trying to coax some heat back into the water.

"Come on, people! work with me here!" He imagined someone downstairs taking a long shower, stealing all the hot water. "Share some of the wealth with me!"

A moment later, a scalding wave slammed into him. He yelped, hopping back with a curse. "Okay, okay, geez! Guess lukewarm it is. Damn it."

To Be Continued