There was light...
A warm light slipping through his closed eyelids, forcing him to return to the surface from the sea of darkness that had swallowed him.
Alex groaned softly, then frowned as he felt a slight buzzing in his head. It felt like waking up after a long night of drinking, but this time, there was no headache like usual. There was no heavy, annoying feeling in his body, nor the nausea he had grown accustomed to every morning.
He slowly opened his eyes.
The room was lit by sunlight streaming through a small window on the side. The walls were painted a pale beige, the simple furniture, the old wooden desk... everything seemed irrationally familiar.
He slowly sat up and ran his hand over his face.
Memory hit him hard.
The mirror... his younger face... the shock... the fall.
He gasped as he raised his hands in front of him, turning them in the sunlight. His skin was smooth, free from the pallor and slight wrinkles he saw every morning in the mirror for years. He stood up quickly, almost staggering but managing to steady himself on the ground.
"This... can't be real."
He rushed toward the mirror again, and when he saw his reflection this time, it wasn't as shocking as before, but it didn't make him shiver any less. He extended his hand and touched his face, as if trying to make sure it wasn't just an optical illusion.
"How...?"
His breath was heavy as he tried to understand what was happening. Just moments—maybe hours?—ago, he had been dying. Cancer, a car accident, certain death... and now, here he was, younger by more than 20 years, in his old room, as if time had taken him back to the starting point.
A chill crawled up his spine.
If this was real... what did that mean?
And was this a second chance?
Or just another nightmare he hadn't woken up from yet?
Slap
Alex slapped his face and felt the sting of the slap, starting to rub his cheek where he had slapped himself hard. "Damn, that hurts... I mean... I'm not dreaming, good grief... I've gone back in time."
He stood in front of the mirror, staring at his younger face with a red cheek from the slap, still trying to process what was happening. He should have been in the hospital, or at least in the morgue after the car accident he had clearly felt. But no, here he was, in his old room, in his youthful body, as if time had jumped him backward.
"This can't be real..."
He stepped away from the mirror and started pacing the room, running his hand through his hair, trying to calm his tangled thoughts. Everything felt familiar… but something was off. There was a strange feeling, a hidden sense that this wasn't the place he knew, even though it seemed identical to what he remembered.
He looked around, trying to find any clue to what was happening. The same table, the same bed, the scattered clothes... then his eyes fell on an old desk by the window, where a newspaper was folded messily.
He approached it slowly, his heart pounding loudly. He reached out and grabbed the newspaper, then opened it, trying to ignore the tremor in his fingers.
What he read made his breath stop.
The date... it was wrong.
The newspaper was dated with a time he didn't know. It wasn't just a small difference in days or months... the year itself was wrong. He had gone back ten years, or so he thought, but now he saw a date that had no connection to the past he had lived.
Another country? Maybe a printing error?
But when he looked at the headlines, he didn't recognize any of them. There were no familiar global events, no news about celebrities or politicians he knew, even the names of cities and regions looked strange. It was as if this was a completely different world, one that resembled his, but wasn't it.
He threw the newspaper on the table and stepped back, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
"This... can't be real... it can't be!"
He ran toward the window, pulling the curtains open violently, to see the street outside. The buildings, the cars, the trees... everything looked normal, but there was something different, something he couldn't pinpoint right away. The streets were familiar in a troubling way, but not like he remembered. Even the shop sign on the corner, which he remembered saying "Market John," now said "Harris General Store."
He felt a cold shiver crawl over his body.
If this wasn't a dream... if this wasn't just a fleeting nightmare... then what?
He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, trying to think rationally.
Okay... let's think this through.
First, he was dying. Stage-four cancer, no chance of survival. Then, a car accident... he was sure he had felt his body thrown in the air before sinking into the darkness.
But instead of dying, he woke up here, younger, in his body from ten years ago. But this wasn't his world. Not the past he knew.
"Is this... a rebirth?" he whispered to himself, remembering those stories he'd read about people going back in time to fix their mistakes. But this wasn't like those stories. Yes, he had gone back, but to a world that wasn't his.
The words stuck in his throat, as if they were afraid to come out.
"Am I... in a parallel world?"
The idea was ridiculous, impossible... but it was the only explanation that seemed to make sense right now.
He looked at the newspaper again, at the wrong date, at the headlines he had never heard of. Then he looked at the city outside, both similar and different at the same time.
If this was another world... what did that mean? Was it just a new opportunity? Or was there something bigger happening here?
He felt his heart pounding strongly, not from fear this time, but from something else... a mix of anticipation and tension.
If he had been given a second chance, but in a different world...
What would he do with it?
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