Chapter b185 /b

Aurora’s PO.V

I woke up with a jolt, my body drenched in cold sweat. My heart hammered in my chest, and I was gasping for breath, the dark, suffocating feeling of my nightmare still lingering around me. My eyes darted around, but all bI /bcould see was ckness. No light, no sounds–just that endless void. Panic flooded through me, and I fought against the overwhelming sense of being trapped. I couldn’t let it take me again. I couldn’t stay in that ce, that dark abyss.

I tried to stand, but something was different. My feet met solid ground. Soft, familiar ground. Slowly, I blinked, trying to make sense of it all. I wasn’t standing in the dark anymore. I wasn’t in the ce I had been before. I was… lying down? My hands brushed over the fabric beneath me, and the realization hit me like a punch to the

gut.

This wasn’t my room.

I sat up, confusion clouding my mind. The room around me came into focus, a slow, creeping rity. It was small, cozy, and had a certain warmth to it, something I hadn’t noticed before. There was a bedside table on bthe /bright, and on it–A picture. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. It was a picture of my mother. I could see her face clearly in the dim light. She was so much younger in that photo, smiling widely as if there was nothing in the world that could take that joy away from her.

Hastily, I looked around, finally realizing where I was as each piece of furniture, each corner of this room finally registered in my sub–consciousness.

And for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. This… this was my parents‘ room. How did I end up here? Why? How? When…?

I stood up quickly, my legs wobbling under the sudden weight of everything rushing back.

“No… this can’t be real,” I whispered to myselfb, /bmy hands shaking. I looked around, my eyes frantic. Everything was so familiar, so vivid and realistic. But how could this even be possible? Caleb told me my house was gone…

I touched the bed, the soft, plushforter my mother used to insist on. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to steady my breathing. But the panic was still there, wing at me. “How am I here? I mumbled under my breath, my voice cracking. I needed answers, but it felt like the more I searched for them, the further they slipped away.

I reached for the picture, picking it up carefully. The edges were a little worn, as if it had been handled many times, but the image was still clear. My mother’s smile. Her eyes. I could almost hear herughter echoing in the back of my mind. But this couldn’t be a memory. This felt… too real. I nced around the room again, trying to make sense of what was happening.

My heart ached with a strange sense of loss. “Mom?” I whispered softly. But there was no answer.

I looked around the room, trying to make sense of it. The walls, the furniture–all of it felt so familiarb, /byet distant. There, to my left, was a closet. A simple one, nothing extraordinary, but it caught my eye. I couldn’t help bbut /bwonder what it contained, but I knew better than to go looking, unsure of what I would find.

A feeling of nostalgia hit me hard. The room looked like it had been left untouched, like ba /bmemory uapped in time. I turned my head to the right, and there it was on the table, a flower vase filled with carnations. My mother’s favorite flowers. I smiled softly at the sight of them. They’d always been a symbol of home, of somethin- constant in a world that often felt uncertain.

But something wasn’t right. I felt a chill running down my spine. I wasn’t sure why, but the longer I stood bthere/b, the more I realized that there was something off about this ce. This wasn’t the same room I remembered, bnot /bentirely. It was like everything here had belonged to her, and only her. There were no traces of my father. No clothes scattered around, no signs that he had ever been here. No pictures of us, of our family. Just my mother, her belongings, and the faint scent of carnations in the air.

bChapter /bComments

36

POST COMMENT NOW