"Huh?"
Elena opened her eyes slowly. Her head felt heavy, and everything around her seemed... off.
"Where am I?"
She blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright light illuminating the room from the window.
Then she saw the ceiling, the cracked paint, and smelt the old wood.
Her breath hitched as she recognized the place.
"My old room?"
The small, cramped space she had lived in ten years ago, before everything changed. Before her marriage with Adrian.
"What...? How... how am I here?" She whispered, sitting up on the narrow bed.
Then, she looked around, her heart racing. The same faded curtains. The same peeling wallpaper.
"This isn't possible..." She muttered. Her hand gripped the edge of the bed as she tried to steady herself.
Her mind raced back to the last thing she remembered.
"I jumped from the rooftop. I... I died. Or did I not die? I mean, I could feel life slipping from me. But even if I didn't die, I should be in the hospital not here!" She wondered aloud.
She stood up from the bed, her legs shaky.
"This... this can't be real. Is this... the afterlife?" She whispered and her eyes wandered to the floor, where papers were scattered.
She bent down and picked one up.
It was an application letter. Half-written.
Her lips trembled as she read the familiar words.
"Dear Sir/Madam... I am writing to apply for the position..."
Her fingers tightened around the paper.
"This... this is what I was writing back then, I remember." She said softly.
"I was desperate for a job. Fresh out of school, no experience..." She chuckled bitterly, shaking her head.
Her voice trailed off as she stared at the letter.
"It feels... real." She said quietly.
She glanced around the room again. The small table in the corner. The single chair. The old, small bulb overhead.
Elena swallowed hard.
"This isn't how the afterlife should look like, right? What is going on? Am I unable to cross over and stuck here because my soul feels too wronged?" She whispered fearfully.
Her thoughts were however interrupted by the sudden ring of a phone.
Elena jumped, her heart pounding. She looked around frantically.
The phone rang again.
It was coming from the table.
Elena walked over slowly, her hands trembling. She picked up the old, worn-out phone.
"No!" She gasped when she saw the caller's ID. Mom.
Her fingers tightened around the phone in fear.
"No... no, this can't be real. Mom... died. Five years ago. She... she can't be calling me." She said, shaking her head.
The phone kept ringing persistently.
Elena stared at it, her mind screaming that it wasn't possible.
"Wait! Could it be that I'm seeing things I missed after my death?" She threw the question at the empty room but got no response.
"Maybe I... I should just... play along." She decided reluctantly when the phone didn't stop ringing.
With a deep breath, she answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Elena! What is wrong? I have been worried." Her mother's voice filled the phone, warm and familiar.
"Her voice. It sounds... real." She thought to herself in confusion.
"Mom?" Elena whispered.
"Yes, it's me. How are you? Have you finally found a job? You said you won't come visit until you get a job but I miss you. Come back home." Her mother said gently.
"Mom... you... you sound..." Elena trailed off not knowing how to say what she was thinking.
"Sound what? Are you okay? You don't sound like yourself." Her mother asked.
"You... you died, Mom. And I just died too..." She stated slowly.
There was a pause on the other end. Then her mother's voice turned stern.
"Elena, haven't I told you to stop saying negative things about yourself? It is bad luck."
Elena's hand shook.
"No, you... you really did. You died five years ago."
"Elena, stop it. You are scaring me. Did you have a bad dream?" Her mother asked.
"You have to come home so you can rest. I think the whole deal with finding a job is wearing you down." Her mother added.
Elena couldn't take it anymore. She quickly hung up on her, her heart pounding.
Her breathing was ragged as she stared at the phone.
"This isn't real. It can't be." She whispered but what she was seeing was saying otherwise.
The date the phone was displaying was ten years ago. A month after her graduation.
She stood up, her hands running over her arms, her face, her body.
"I don't feel any pain. No broken bones. No bruises. Nothing to indicate I have fallen from a great height..." She observed.
"I... I don't feel like I jumped. I don't feel... dead." She said, her voice trembling.
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for answers. The same old room. The same old things.
Her heart raced as she paced back and forth.
"What is happening to me? Is this some kind of... dream?"
Her eyes landed on the small fridge in the corner. She hurried over, yanking the door open.
"It is working?" She was surprised to see the light on.
Elena's hands moved over the few items inside. A carton of milk. A jar of jam. A loaf of bread.
She checked the expiration dates.
"All from ten years ago...?" She gasped when she discovered that.
"No... no, this can't be..." Her hands shook.
She backed away from the fridge, her mind spinning.
"But how? How is this real?" She whispered, desperately waiting for anyone or anything to reply her.
Then the sudden whistle of a kettle snapped her out of her thoughts.
Elena flinched in fright, her head jerking toward the small kitchen.
She saw that a kettle was on the stove, steam coming from the boiling water in it.
Elena rushed to the kitchen and stood there, staring at the kettle.
"The stove is on..." S
he observed in shock and her knees weakened. Her hands gripped the counter for support.
"What is this? Did I... did I travel back in time after dying?"