The pain wasn't new.
It was old.
The feeling of my head smashing forward, into something hard.
My chest tightening until I couldn't breathe.
Glass shards cutting into skin. Blood sticking to my body. Legs twisting, folding, before breaking.
It felt like it all happened a second ago.
I curled in on myself, fingers circling my arms, breath coming out in sharp, uneven gasps.
Haah.
I knew—
Haah.
I knew that my body was fine.
Haah.
But the pain was still there.
Haah.
Breathing.
It didn't help.
My limbs felt wrong, heavy, and numb at the same time. My hands trembled as if the wounds were still there.
Then, amidst that pain, my lips parted.
"...Adonis."
The name left me without thought.
Nothing changed.
The pain stayed.
I spoke again, louder.
"I am...Adonis."
To remind me who I was.
That pain.
It was from my past life.
There was no place for it here.
"I am Adonis."
The pain lessened when I spoke again.
Not gone, but held back, as if something restrained it.
"I am Adonis."
I spoke again and again, my voice growing firmer each time.
And—
Each time, the pain pulled back a little.
My heart still raced.
My body still shook.
But the pain eased.
Then—
Something else pushed forward instead.
Something more important.
It felt like something that had been held back resurfaced again.
Faces.
My Family.
Rowena.
My aunt, who cared for me like a mother.
I remembered her gentle voice as she encouraged me during my training—the feeling of warmth as she brushed through my hair.
Then came Lucien.
My stepbrother.
I remembered the lessons he forced me to take. His stern voice as he taught me about the world.
He was always watching my back.
Next was my stepsister, Theodora.
Her bright smile as she played her little pranks on us.
I spend most of my time with her playing games. She cared a lot about me...maybe even a bit too much.
Then—
My family on Earth.
Mother.
She always put me first.
The well-being of others came before hers.
She was my biggest supporter and hater at the same time. Encouraging when needed, but dead honest if I did something wrong.
She always loved to watch me play soccer. She was the kind of person who smiled when the people around her were happy.
Father.
He wasn't always there because of work, but when he was, we did everything together—fixing cars, renovating the house, hiking in the mountains.
Everything I know was taught by him.
Then came my little sister.
Lena.
She was my... no, our princess.
I carried her on my back every time she grew too tired to walk.
Her bright smile as she told me about her school tests. The hours I spent teaching her math, and her tired little voice begging me to stop.
It hit me then.
Twelve years.
That's how long I've been gone.
Lena must be an adult by now. Studying at a good university. Maybe even having a boyfriend.
Twelve years…she's spent as much time without me as we did together.
My hand slid down from my chest as I leaned back against the cold stone wall.
My thoughts drifted back to the crash.
I died.
They must have despaired upon hearing the news.
Mother.
I imagined her at my funeral.
Dressed in black, receiving guests through tears. Breaking down at her own son's coffin.
My heart ached at the thought.
Having to bury your own child as a parent is something nobody should experience.
It must have been hard.
Lena and Mother must have been devastated and cried a lot while Dad had his hands full comforting them.
Living without me must have been difficult.
Mom had likely lost her smile and was only faking it for Lena.
Dad would have dived straight into work as a means to distract himself while coming back home and playing the strong man for his family.
Lena must have been in the worst condition.
I had spent most of my time with her. Bringing her to school, helping her with her homework later, and then playing with her.
Had they managed to regain their happiness?
To live on.
Did time heal their wounds?
Or did time slowly erode the memory of me?
But...
Twelve years.
Do they still think about me?
Maybe they don't even think about me anymore.
How could they?
Twelve years...was enough time to forget someone.
Drip.
A tear fell down my cheek.
Did they move on?
Or are they still drowning in grief?
Drip.
Do they remember my face?
My voice?
Or did both fade with time?
Drip.
More tears followed.
I want them to forget, to move on, to live again…but at the same time, I didn't want them to forget me.
I want them to think about me.
To remember me, as I will remember them.
Tears blurred my vision.
I want to see them again.
I want to hug them.
Tell Mom how much I love her.
Help Dad with the car again.
Hug my little sister.
Drip.
I tried to brush the tears away with my sleeve, but more followed.
I want to go back—
Back home to my family.
But was there even a way to go back?
A way to travel back to Earth from this world?
Yes.
There has to be a way.
If I could come into this world, I could leave as well.
I just need to find out how.
But...
If twelve years have passed...was there even a place left for me there?
What if they had found peace already?
And if they would see me again...wouldn't it just reopen their wounds?
Drip.
I'd only hurt them more.
Drip.
My breathing grew heavier with each sob.
Drip.
I covered my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but my chest only ached harder.
"Mom… Dad… Lena…"
Would they even want me back?
Looking down at my body between the gaps of my fingers, I thought.
Would they even recognize me?
Drip.
The life we once had is no more.
They must have changed a lot.
Would I even fit into their new lives?
Drip.
All these thoughts made me cry even more.
My heart beat faster with each thought, and each sob made my breath grow a bit more ragged.
I took breaths, but it felt as if there was no air in my lungs.
The fingers covering my eyes trembled with each breath.
It felt as if the room grew smaller with each second that passed, while the light from the corridor grew dimmer.
And there was nothing I could do against it.
So I kept crying.
Like the little boy I was.