The blaring sound of an alarm clock jolted me out of a deep, dreamless sleep, the kind where time seems to vanish in an instant. The harsh beep-beep-beep of the alarm reverberated through the room, an incessant, grating noise that felt like a drill boring into my skull. Groaning, I stretched out my stiff limbs, my body protesting against the movement as if I'd been asleep for a century. My hand fumbled around on the nightstand, searching blindly for the snooze button. After a few seconds of clumsy groping, I finally managed to smack it, silencing the maddening beeps. A contented sigh escaped my lips as I sank back into the warm embrace of my bed.
(A/N: Relatable Bro <(Ꝋ ̫ Ꝋ)>)
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of early morning sunlight filtering through the gaps in the heavy curtains. Dust particles floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the stray beams of light. The faint hum of the ceiling fan provided a soothing backdrop, mingling with the distant chirping of birds outside the window. My room was a chaotic haven of nostalgia—game consoles piled on a small wooden shelf, tangled wires spilling onto the floor like vines in a jungle. Posters of my favorite anime characters adorned the walls, their vibrant colors faded with age. A messy pile of clothes was strewn across the chair in the corner, and an open textbook lay abandoned on the desk, its pages curling at the edges.
"Just five more minutes…" I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow as I snuggled deeper under the blanket, seeking that perfect spot of warmth that would lull me back to sleep. The mattress creaked beneath me, and the faint scent of fabric softener lingered on the sheets. It was the kind of morning where every fiber of your being begged you to stay in bed, cocooned in comfort.
But something was off. A strange heaviness settled over me, not just from the blanket, but from a lingering memory that refused to fade. Vivid images began to flood my mind—blood soaking through my clothes, the cold sting of rain pelting down on me, the distant wail of sirens, and the frantic shouting of voices that seemed far away yet too close. My heart skipped a beat, a jolt of adrenaline surging through me as I shot upright in bed, the blanket falling away as I gasped for air.
The accident. The billboard. The pain. The blood.
My breath came in quick, shallow bursts as I scanned my surroundings, my mind struggling to reconcile the memories with what I was seeing. Everything looked… normal. My familiar bedroom, cluttered with game consoles and posters, was a far cry from the chaos that had consumed my thoughts. The faint hum of the fan and the ticking of a wall clock anchored me to the present. Desperately, I patted my arms, chest, and legs, half-expecting to find gaping wounds or, at the very least, some sign that I had just been through something horrific. But there was nothing—no cuts, no bruises. My skin was smooth, unblemished, perfectly intact.
"This can't be real…" I whispered, my voice trembling as the reality of the situation began to sink in. (◎_◎;)
The last thing I remembered was lying on the cold, wet ground, feeling the life slowly drain out of me. My thoughts spiraled, trying to make sense of the impossible. Had I survived somehow? Or was this… something else entirely? A shiver ran down my spine as a terrifying thought crossed my mind, one that I couldn't easily dismiss.
"Is this… the afterlife?" I muttered, the words barely making it past my dry lips, each syllable weighed down by the dread pooling in my stomach. (°□°)
I looked around the room again, my eyes lingering on every familiar object as if seeing them for the first time. The posters on the walls, the scattered clothes, the faint smell of old books and electronics—everything was too real, too ordinary for an afterlife. But then again, what did I know about the afterlife? Maybe it looked exactly like this, designed to lull you into a false sense of normalcy, a way to trick you into believing that nothing had changed.
Before I could spiral further into panic, I heard the creak of the floorboards outside my room and the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. My mom's voice echoed from the hallway, clear and unmistakable, cutting through the fog of confusion clouding my mind. "Are you up? I made your favorite breakfast!"
I froze, my mind racing at a million miles per hour. Mom? Here? How could she be here? My pulse pounded in my ears, each beat thudding like a drum as the door creaked open, and there she was—standing in front of me, just like she always did, as if nothing had happened.
"Mom?" I called out, my voice shaky, barely more than a whisper, as she stepped into the room.
She looked at me with a raised eyebrow, her expression a mix of concern and amusement. Her deep brown eyes, warm yet sharp, always seemed to see right through me. She had the kind of face that radiated both kindness and authority, framed by soft, shoulder-length hair that glinted faintly in the morning light. A few streaks of silver at her temples gave her an air of wisdom, and her smile—though faint—was enough to instantly calm and disarm. "Who else would it be? Why do you look so shocked?"
My brain struggled to process what I was seeing. If this was the afterlife, why was she here? Did it mean she had died too? The thought hit me like a ton of bricks, and a wave of cold fear washed over me, leaving me feeling hollow as I stared at her, wide-eyed, my breath catching in my throat.
"Why are you here?" I blurted out, my voice tinged with a mix of desperation and panic, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
Mom gave me a puzzled look, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to make sense of my question. "Where else would I be?" Her expression was a mixture of confusion and mild amusement, her head tilting ever so slightly, causing the soft curls of her hair to catch the morning light. Her deep brown eyes, always warm yet sharp, locked onto mine, searching for some hidden meaning in my words. It was the same look she gave me whenever I said something that made no sense to her—equal parts curious and exasperated. (ಠ_ಠ)
I paused, the pieces slowly clicking together in the most absurd way possible. My mind concocted a wild theory: was this some cosmic glitch? Had we been drafted into some interdimensional soap opera where timelines clashed, and reality rewrote itself on a whim? My throat tightened, and my eyes welled up with a mix of tears and sheer bafflement as the idea gained momentum in my frazzled brain. "Did you… die too?" I asked, my voice cracking like a faulty microphone, the words tumbling out as I stared at her with an expression somewhere between dread and a poorly acted sitcom surprise. (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
Her expression shifted in an instant, the confusion on her face giving way to pure exasperation. Before I could even flinch, she walked over and smacked me upside the head—hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.
"This brat! Did playing all those games make your brain go crazy?" she snapped, her hands on her waist in that familiar stance that always meant I was in trouble. "What kind of nonsense are you talking about? You wake up spouting this weirdness, and now you're saying I died too? Honestly, do I need to get you checked out by a doctor? You better not be planning to stay up all night playing games again!"
The sharp sting from her smack snapped me out of my daze, the pain jolting me back to reality and I began to think this might not be afterlife Afterall. I winced, rubbing the sore spot on my head as I looked up at her, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. "Ow! Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I was just… confused, that's all!"
Mom crossed her arms, her 'mom' look amplified to an intensity that could probably stop a charging bull in its tracks. Her eyes narrowed like a seasoned interrogator ready to extract the truth, and her stance radiated the kind of authority that could topple governments. "You're not skipping breakfast," she declared, her voice booming like a judge delivering a life sentence. "And you're definitely not playing games for a week. I'm confiscating your consoles. Permanently, if I have to! You're going to get up, get ready, and come out of your room like a normal person. And maybe—just maybe—spend some time rediscovering that floor under all this mess you call a room!"
I nodded quickly, knowing better than to argue when she was in this mood. Her sharp gaze practically burned through me, and I could almost hear the echo of all those times she'd scolded me about life choices: "Eat your veggies, don't stay up late, you'll go blind staring at screens!" Even in this bizarre limbo of life and afterlife, I was still getting lectured. "Got it, Mom," I said, throwing in an exaggerated, overly earnest nod that screamed, Don't hurt me, I'm fragile! (ಥ﹏ಥ)
She squinted at me like a detective sniffing out a lie, arms akimbo, radiating an aura of pure maternal dominance. For a split second, I wondered if she was some interdimensional authority figure tasked with keeping cosmic troublemakers like me in check. "I'll be out in a minute," I added quickly, trying to dodge the heat of her glare. Internally, I braced myself for more accusations, half-expecting her to say something like, "And don't think I won't find out if you've been messing with space-time again!"
As she turned to leave, something inside me stirred—a rush of emotions that I hadn't felt in a long time, emotions that I had buried deep down, too busy with my own life to really pay attention. The memory of that final moment—the pain, the regret, the overwhelming sadness—was still fresh in my mind. I had thought I'd lost everything. But now, here she was, scolding me like always, just like she had done countless times before.
Before I knew it, I had jumped out of bed and wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug, holding on as if letting go would make her disappear.
She froze, clearly surprised by the sudden gesture. "What's this about?" she asked, her voice softening, a hint of concern creeping into her tone. "If you think acting like this will stop me from taking your games, you're mistaken," she added in a stern voice, but I didn't respond. I just hugged her tighter, the reality of having her here, alive and well, overwhelming me.
"I just… I'm really glad you're here," I mumbled into her shoulder, my voice barely steady as I fought to keep my emotions in check.
For a moment, she didn't say anything, her hands hovering uncertainly before she finally relaxed and wrapped her arms around me, patting my back gently. "What's gotten into you today?" she murmured, her voice soft, laced with a warmth that made my chest ache.
"Nothing," I replied, pulling back slightly with a small smile, my eyes meeting hers. "Just… thanks, Mom."
I had never really shown her much gratitude before, always taking her presence for granted, but after experiencing death—or whatever that was—I realized I should at least thank her for everything she had done, for all the hard work and sacrifices she made.
She gave me a long look, her eyes searching mine as if trying to figure out what had brought on this sudden change. Slowly, her expression softened, and she nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Alright, enough of this," she said, her tone still gentle but with that familiar edge of authority. "Now hurry up before breakfast gets cold."
"Okay, okay," I said with a grin, feeling a strange mix of relief and determination as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
As I got ready, I couldn't shake the feeling of how real everything felt—how alive everything was. Each small, familiar detail seemed sharper, more vivid, as if I was seeing it all with new eyes. The calendar on my wall confirmed it: August 25th, 20XX—one months before high school started.
To further confirm that I was really in the past, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It still had the same wallpaper of my favourite game character, the one I used to obsess over. As I tried to unlock it, the phone asked for a password. I realized I had forgotten it, but with face recognition, it unlocked, displaying the familiar home screen.
"I'll try to remember the password later," I muttered to myself, my mind already racing ahead.
Everything on my phone was exactly as I remembered it. I checked the date once more: August 25th. It was real—I was really back in the past. The realization hit me hard, a mixture of awe and disbelief washing over me. This wasn't some bizarre dream or afterlife. I was alive, back in time, with a second chance at life.
The idea was mind-boggling. How was this even possible? And more importantly, why? A feeling of unease crept over me as I considered the implications. I had read enough webtoons and novels to recognize the pattern—protagonist goes back in time to fix their mistakes, to live a better life. But this was real life, not some fictional story.
"Ha… I didn't think stuff like this could actually happen," I said to myself, letting out a nervous laugh. But the thought lingered in my mind: if I really did go back in time, then… maybe I have a system too? A sudden rush of excitement mixed with doubt surged through me.
"Nah, it can't be. If I had a system, it would've shown up as soon as I woke up, right? I shouldn't be too greedy," I reasoned with myself, nodding in agreement with my own logic. But still, the curiosity gnawed at me. What if?
"Well… let's give it a try," I muttered, feeling a bit foolish but unable to resist the temptation.
"System!" I called out loud, expecting some kind of prompt or screen to appear. Nothing. The room remained silent, save for the distant sounds of morning life outside.
"Okay, let's try one more time. System, come!" I called again, this time with a bit more enthusiasm. Still nothing.
I tried again, "Come out, system!" and again, "Hey, system, come out!" I even tried saying it in my thoughts, hoping that maybe it would respond to my mental commands.
But after several more attempts with increasingly ridiculous variations, I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I buried my face in the pillow and kicked my legs in frustration. "Aaah… this is so stupid and embarrassing. If Mom saw me doing this, she'd definitely think I've lost it."
With a groan, I sat up, shaking off the silly notion. "I feel like some middle schooler with chūnibyō," I muttered, cringing at my own behaviour.
Finally, I stood up with a determined look on my face. "Okay, so what if I don't have a system? I'll change my life and live the way I've always wanted to." The resolve in my voice surprised even me. This was my chance, and I wasn't going to waste it.
But first, I had to eat breakfast. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since… well, since before everything went crazy. With a renewed sense of purpose, I headed to the kitchen, ready to face the day with a new outlook.
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A/N: Hello Readers!!!!,
I Hope you like the story so far,
I know it's too early to judge but still I will say to stick to upcoming chapters, and it will be worth it.
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