Morana's Point of View
There's a worse thing than dying; it's dying worthlessly. I will either take revenge or take revenge.
**********
My eyes snapped open, and I gasped, only to find myself in utter silence. Panic set in as I realized I was no longer crushed beneath the weight of the truck, but… floating.
Suspended in mid-air, surrounded by a vast, endless expanse of nothingness. It wasn't darkness, nor was it light — just a void that seemed to stretch forever in every direction.
"Where am I?" I whispered, though my voice barely felt like my own. My thoughts raced, questions piling one over another. I tried to move, but my body wouldn't obey. My arms, my legs… I was stuck, paralyzed in this strange void.
The silence was suffocating, and just as my panic reached its peak, a ripple formed in the void. I blinked, and before me appeared a figure. A being unlike anything I'd ever seen. It was cloaked in flowing robes that shimmered like the night sky, its face hidden behind a luminous glow that made it impossible to discern its features. Yet, its presence was commanding, otherworldly.
"Morana," the being spoke, its voice resonating like a melody, soothing yet terrifying. "The heavens have heard your cry."
I blinked at it, my mind struggling to process the words. "Wait, what?! Heard my cry? What's going on? Am I… still alive?"
The being tilted its head slightly, as though amused by my confusion. "No, Morana. You are dead."
The words hit me like a blow. I felt my chest tighten, though I had no heart left to beat. "Dead? How?!" My voice rose, trembling with disbelief. "I was crushed by a goddamn truck. There's no way I should be… here. Wherever here is!"
"Yes," the being said calmly. "Your body perished, but your soul is trapped. It cannot ascend to the heavens, nor can it return to the mortal realm. You are caught between the point of life and death."
The void seemed to close in around me as I absorbed the truth. I was stuck, neither alive nor fully gone. My thoughts tumbled like a storm, and one question clawed its way to the forefront. "Why? Why can't I just move on?"
The being's glow pulsed faintly, and its voice grew deeper, more solemn. "You suffered a bitter fate before your death. Betrayal, pain, and regret consumed you. Your soul is heavy with rage and the insatiable need for revenge."
Revenge. The word alone made my chest burn, my memories of their cruelty—of Isabella's laughter, my father's indifference, my husband's lies,my stepsister's, searing through me like flames.
"So… what now?" I asked, swallowing hard. "What's the way out of this? Am I just supposed to stay here, stuck, forever?"
The being raised a hand, and for the first time, I noticed its fingers glowing faintly. "You have been given a rare chance," it said. "Three hundred and sixty-five days. That is the time you have to carry out your revenge. If you succeed, your soul will be free to move on. But if you fail..."
My throat tightened. "If I fail?"
The being's glow darkened, and its voice echoed with finality. "You will cease to exist. Your soul will turn to dust and vanish, leaving no trace of you in any realm."
The weight of its words pressed on me, suffocating and yet strangely exhilarating. One year. One year to avenge my death and make them pay for every ounce of pain they inflicted on me.
I stared at the being, my mind reeling. "I… I don't know what to say."
"You do not need to say anything," it replied. Slowly, it reached out and tapped my forehead with a single glowing finger. The touch was cold, electric, and sent a shiver coursing through me.
"Go," the being commanded, its voice echoing in my mind. "Make perfect use of your time. Remember, failure is not an option if you wish to avoid complete obliteration."
Before I could reply, a bright light engulfed me, pulling me away from the void. The last thing I saw was the being's silhouette dissolving into the nothingness, and the last thing I heard was its final warning, ringing like a solemn bell:
"Do not waste this chance."
**********
AUGUST 17th, 2017
As soon as I opened my eyes, I was no longer floating in the void. The blinding light that had consumed me faded, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled my ears. My vision adjusted, and I found myself in the midst of a lavish celebration.
Balloons and ribbons adorned the grand hall, chandeliers sparkled overhead, and people danced and mingled, their faces glowing with excitement.
I squinted in confusion, my heart pounding. 'What's going on?' I asked myself. The last thing I remembered was being told I had 365 days to exact my revenge.
Then my eyes caught sight of the large sign on the far wall, written in elegant golden letters:
MORANA AND DAVIAN ENGAGEMENT PARTY.
My breath hitched, and I instinctively covered my mouth, trying to contain the gasp that threatened to escape. 'This can't be…' I turned to glance at my reflection in the mirrored wall nearby. My younger self stared back at me—bright-eyed, naive, and utterly clueless about the betrayal that awaited her.
I felt the glass in my hand tremble as realization struck. 'I've been sent back in time.'
Six years. That was how far back I'd been sent. To this day, the day I had been so blinded by love and trust, celebrating my engagement to Davin, unaware of the poison lurking behind the smiles of the people I called family.
A smirk tugged at my lips. 'Perfect.'
I tilted the champagne flute in my hand, swirling the golden liquid as I surveyed the room. Every face here had played a part in my suffering—smiling now, basking in the glow of a life built on lies and deceit. They had no idea the naive Morana they once knew was gone.
"Morana! There you are!" A woman in an elegant red dress approached me, her voice dripping with false sweetness. It was one of my mother-in-law's closest friends, Mrs. Hartwell. "You look radiant, dear. Congratulations!"
I forced a smile that I hoped was convincing. "Thank you, Mrs. Hartwell. I'm truly… overwhelmed by everyone's love and support."
Her brows raised slightly, surprised by my calm demeanor. "Well, my dear, you certainly sound different tonight. You're usually so quiet and reserved at these events. I must say, I like this side of you!"
"Do you?" I replied smoothly, tilting my head. "Perhaps it's the champagne."
She laughed nervously, clearly unsure how to respond. Before she could pry further, I turned to a small group nearby and joined their conversation, ignoring her lingering gaze.
"Congratulations, Morana!" one of the guests exclaimed as I approached.
"Thank you," I said warmly, my smile never faltering. "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves. It's not every day we celebrate something as special as this, is it?"
The group exchanged glances, clearly taken aback. The old me wouldn't have dared to approach them so confidently.
"You seem… different tonight," one of them remarked cautiously.
"Do I?" I asked, feigning innocence. "Well, perhaps I'm just realizing how fleeting moments like these are. We should savor them, don't you think?"
The group nodded, murmuring their agreement, but I could see the suspicion in their eyes. Good. Let them wonder.
From across the room, I felt the sharp gaze of my stepmother, Isabella. She stood near the grand staircase, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her eyes clearly conveyed the warning 'Behave.'
I met her gaze head-on, my smile turning icy. Her brows furrowed slightly, but I gave her no chance to approach me. I excused myself from the group, murmuring polite goodbyes as I headed toward the stairs.
As I ascended, the noise from the party faded, replaced by a strange stillness. I needed a moment to think, to process the enormity of what had just happened. But as I reached the landing, I heard something that made me freeze in my tracks—muffled moans.
My heart sank. I knew those sounds, those voices.
Carefully, I tiptoed toward the source of the noise, my pulse quickening with every step. The door to one of the guest rooms was ajar, just enough for me to peek inside. My stomach churned as I pushed it open a fraction more, holding my breath.
Inside, two figures were entwined, lost in their heated embrace. Clothes half-undone, lips devouring each other hungrily.
It was Davian. My fiancé.
And Sophia. My stepsister.