Chirp chirp chirp.
The soft sounds of birds filled the air as the sunlight filtered through the trees above, warming the earth beneath me. The world felt distant, hazy, and unfamiliar. My head ached with a dull throb as I blinked my eyes open, the light piercing my vision. Blurred silhouettes shifted in front of me, and I could hear voices, faint and distorted.
"Dam… Damia… DAMIAN!"
The voice came again, louder this time, dragging me from the fog that clouded my mind. I struggled to focus, blinking hard, and when my vision finally cleared, I saw a large man with a scruffy beard and bright blue eyes staring at me, his expression a mix of concern and panic.
"Son, are you alright?" he asked, gripping my shoulders as if to steady me.
"I… I'm fine," I muttered, though my head pounded fiercely, and nothing about this moment felt fine. I pressed my palm to my temple, trying to ease the pain, but it lingered, as did the deep sense of wrongness that clung to everything around me.
The man in front of me was my father—or at least, that's what my memories told me. But he was a stranger to me. His brown hair, his weathered skin, his hands that were calloused from years of labor—none of it sparked any familiarity. Yet when I looked into his blue eyes, the same blue as mine, it all clicked into place.
I wasn't supposed to be here.
"Come on, son. Your mother's waiting with lunch. Let's get you inside," he said, his tone gentle but firm.
I stood shakily, following him toward the small wooden cottage nestled among the fields. It was a simple, peaceful home with a thatched roof and smoke lazily drifting from the chimney. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the open window, but I could hardly focus on that. The more I tried to take in my surroundings, the more out of place I felt.
My mind was a whirlwind of confusion. This wasn't my life. I had lived somewhere else—somewhere louder, busier. The city, tall buildings, the noise. And then… I had died. I was sure of it. But here I was, alive, and living a different life.
The woman who greeted us inside the cottage had kind brown eyes and warm brown hair. She smiled at me, though there was concern in her gaze, the same concern my father had shown. "Damian, sweetie, are you feeling alright?" she asked, kneeling down and brushing dirt from my face with a mother's tender care.
"I'm okay, Mother," I replied, the words slipping out easily, though they felt foreign. These people were supposed to be my parents now, but I couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't. They were strangers to me, no matter how kind they were.
I sat down at the wooden table, a bowl of stew placed in front of me. I ate in silence, barely tasting the food as my mind raced. My parents—my parents—chatted about their day, talking about crops and the village as if everything was normal. But nothing was normal. Not for me.
After lunch, I excused myself, feeling restless. I wandered outside, trying to make sense of it all. The sun was warm, the air fresh, and the birds continued to chirp merrily as if the world hadn't shifted beneath my feet. But nothing felt real. It was like I was living someone else's life, trapped in a reality that didn't belong to me.
That night, as the village grew quiet and my parents slept, the weight of everything crushed me. I wasn't Damian. I didn't belong here. And worst of all, no one could understand what I was going through.
"If they think they can just send me here and forget about me, I'll show them," I muttered to myself, bitterness rising like bile in my throat. That god, had done this to me, and I was determined to make them regret it.
I waited until the house was completely still, and then I slipped out quietly. My heart raced as I headed to the barn, where a coil of rope hung on the wall. I grabbed it with shaking hands and made my way to a tall tree at the edge of the forest. The moon was full, casting an eerie glow over the landscape, but I didn't care. This was my decision. My way out.
Tying the rope to a sturdy branch, I fashioned a noose and slipped it around my neck. My breath hitched, and my hands trembled as I stood on a low branch, looking down at the earth below. I thought about the life I had lost, the world I had left behind, and how unfair it all was.
I closed my eyes. "Goodbye," I whispered, and I jumped.
Time seemed to slow as I fell, but just as the rope should have tightened around my neck, a blinding light erupted from nowhere. I felt a strange warmth wrap around me, and before I could comprehend what was happening, the rope snapped with an unnatural ease, and I collapsed onto the ground, unharmed.
"Damian!"
I looked up, dazed and confused, as my mother rushed toward me, her hands glowing with the same light that had surrounded me moments ago. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes wide with fear and pain.
"What are you doing?" she sobbed, dropping to her knees beside me. She reached out, pulling me into her arms, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "Why, Damian? Why would you do this?"
I couldn't speak. My throat was dry, my heart pounding in my chest. I hadn't wanted her to see this. I didn't want her to witness the ugly truth of what I was trying to do.
She held me tightly, her body trembling as sobs wracked her frame. "Don't you see, Damian?" she whispered through her tears. "You're not alone. We're here for you. We love you."
"I… I don't belong here," I choked out, tears welling up in my own eyes.
Her grip tightened, her face pressed against my shoulder as she cried harder. she said. "You're my son. You're our son. What do you mean you don't belong here. You do you belong with us."
I broke then, the walls I had built up crumbling under the weight of her words. I sobbed into her embrace, my chest heaving with a mix of pain, confusion, and grief. I hadn't realized just how desperately I needed to hear those words, how much I had longed for someone to just say that.
"I'm sorry," I whispered over and over, my voice barely audible between my sobs. "I'm so sorry."
She pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her hands, her brown eyes shimmering with tears. "Damian, I don't know what you're going through," she said, her voice raw with emotion, "but you don't have to face it alone. We'll get through this together, I promise."
As I looked into her tear-streaked face, something inside me shifted. Maybe I didn't belong in this world. Maybe I would never understand why I had been brought here. But in this moment, in the arms of a woman who loved me unconditionally, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to fight this battle alone.
"I love you, Damian," she whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. "Please, don't ever do this again."
I nodded weakly, the warmth of her magic still lingering around us, a reminder that this world was more than I had ever imagined.