Actually, if I really was a high school student, then this feeling was probably just accumulated stress mixed with upcoming exams and whatever nightmare I had just woken up from. That would explain why I was suddenly wide awake at the crack of dawn without the usual groggy feeling that normally came with waking up early. In fact, I felt too awake, almost uncomfortably alert, to the point where my mind stayed completely blank for a few seconds while I stared ahead trying to gather myself properly.
But was I really just a high school student?
For some reason I couldn't explain, it felt like I had already lived through certain moments and eras of adulthood. The feeling itself was confusing and heavy at the same time, like memories buried somewhere deep inside me without fully showing themselves yet.
And who would have thought that same strange feeling, the one that made me sit upright against my headboard instead of staying in my sleeping position, would end up saving my life.
A sharp metallic creak suddenly cut through the silence above me followed by a violent crash loud enough to make my ears ring. The chandelier tore downward along with part of the ceiling, glass bulbs bursting against the floor and bedframe while pieces of plaster scattered everywhere. The sound itself felt chaotic, layered with cracking wood, shattering glass, and the heavy weight of metal slamming directly onto my bed. For a few seconds I could only stare at the damage while my breathing turned uneven, slowly realizing that if I had stayed lying there even a little longer, everything would have landed directly on top of me.
And all this happened while I was still trying to gather my thoughts with the urgent sound of my mum yelling in the background, though at first I genuinely thought her voice was part of the dream because how could my mum possibly be here talking so loudly with her own voice like nothing had happened?
And all this happened while I was still trying to gather my thoughts with the urgent sound of my mum yelling in the background, though at first I genuinely thought her voice was part of the dream because how could my mum possibly be here talking so loudly with her own voice like nothing had happened?
I could hear the urgency in her movements before she suddenly burst into my room, another moment of confusion hitting me immediately because why was I even in this room? She rushed toward me, checking me from head to toe while dragging me away from the damaged side of the bed, but I could barely register whatever she was saying because this was definitely my high school room.
The small cupboards hanging above my study table were still there, slightly uneven because one side had always looked looser than the other. The old brown wardrobe stood near the corner beside the window with faint scratch marks near the handles from years of careless use. My reading table was exactly where I remembered it, crowded with scattered notebooks, uncapped pens, folded papers, and half-finished assignments stacked on top of each other like I kept convincing myself I would organize them later.
Even the walls still looked the same. A few fading sticky notes remained attached near the side of my mirror, some curling slightly at the edges after being left there for too long. Small sketches and unfinished paintings were piled carelessly against the wall beside my desk, while tiny clay sculptures and unfinished wood carvings sat scattered around the table collecting dust. Some of them were things I barely remembered making in the first place.
Near the window sat the narrow chair I used to spend hours studying on late into the night, with one side slightly unstable from years of use. The curtains still carried that faded colour they had years ago, and morning light slipped through the thin fabric softly enough to make the entire room feel strangely untouched by time.
This was my room. This was certainly not a version of it nor something similar. This was my actual high school room.
Before I could sink deeper into the confusion of why my mum was here and why everything looked like the past, a sharp mechanical voice suddenly blared through my head while a strange blue screen appeared in front of me like a floating sheet of paper filled with words.
[Late Integration Complete.]
[System Assimilation Successful.]
[Your future self displays severe suicidal tendencies.]
[To prevent future termination, the past self must survive.]
[Remaining Days: 182.]
[Primary Objective: Live.]
[System Function: Danger Alert, Information Analysis, and Environmental Scouting.]
[Accident #1 Avoided.]
[Severity: Medium.]
[Unable to calculate future accidental frequency.]
[Continued vigilance is advised.]
And I stared blankly at the words while my thoughts spiraled even further out of control.
More accidents?
Meaning situations like this could continue happening over and over again?
The realization alone felt overwhelming enough to crush whatever stability I had left, and before I could fully process any of it, the room around me suddenly went dark. It so happened that the overload became too much for me to handle.
I fainted.