I woke up gasping for air, breathless from what I had just seen. My body was drenched in sweat, trembling with fear. I was suffocating, as if someone had cut off my breath.
The air was as cold as my heart. I didn't want to feel anything anymore—not after this terrible nightmare from my past. It haunted me. My damp sheets told the story of what I had just experienced in that brief moment.
That incessant ticking clock was exhausting me. I wanted to grab it and smash it against the wall, but… I couldn't.My landlord would yell at me. I felt oppressed, torn between the urge to scream and the need to stay calm because… this was in the past. Yes, the past—but it still devoured me from the inside.
I clawed at myself—my neck, my hips… I scratched myself every day to reassure myself, to remind myself that I was alive. But it left scars…
Why did it happen? Why does it still haunt me?
I cried my heart out. But after all these years, why was it still so vivid?
I curled up into a ball, my feet trembling, my whole body shaking. I sobbed uncontrollably. Why, why, WHY?!
Why did my mother and I enter that forest when there had always been a death warning sign?Why did that monster appear out of nowhere when all we wanted was shelter?Why didn't I die with her? I saw her lifeless body lying on the ground.Why didn't it kill me too when it saw me?
I needed air. The room that had once been my refuge, my place of peace, had become my prison.
It was so dark that I couldn't even see my own hands. The ticking of the clock grew louder and louder, to the point where I felt like my ears were going to explode.I couldn't hear anything except that relentless ticking.
My mother died in front of me! And I couldn't do anything! I felt so powerless. I have powers, damn it—why didn't I use them?!
I had to get out! But at the same time, I was afraid…Afraid that the memory would repeat itself again and again in my mind.
I had to decide.
My mind was made up. I grabbed the jacket from my desk.
I was so scared… My breathing was ragged, and I trembled so much that a simple gust of wind could have knocked me over.
Each step felt like a burden weighing down on my shoulders.
I was just a few steps away from my door when I heard noises—voices…
What did they want from me? I knew they were here for me. Their voices were too close to be for my landlord.
I had to make a decision.
Should I run or face these voices, knowing I wasn't in any condition to fight?
I looked at myself in the mirror—my hair was disheveled, and I had scratches all over my body.
I made up my mind—I would face them. Curiosity got the best of me.
What did they want?
My hand trembled as I turned the doorknob, and the voices became clearer, but I couldn't understand what they were saying.
They were speaking a language I didn't know.
But when I opened the door, a weapon was pointed at me.