The Day After Tomorrow

Prologue

What would you do if tomorrow just never came? You wake up to the same day, at the same time, over and over again with no explanation as to why or how it happened. Each day holds different events, but the ending remains immutable; you die.

My name is Mathew Jenson, and this is my life. I've died a total of one hundred and thirty seven times now, and I have no idea why. I can't stop it, no matter what I do it just doesn't make a difference. I've died one hundred and third seven different ways, too. Did you know there is a seemingly immeasurable number of ways you can kick the damn bucket? Well it sure feels that way. I've been poisoned, beaten, ran over, even committed suicide once thinking that this crazy nightmare would finally end if I took my own life, but apparently it doesn't matter how I die. I'll still wake up in my bed on the same day. Did I mention I can recall each and every one of those deaths with perfect clarity? Yeah, you'd think that who ever did this to me would at least have the decency to wipe my memory after every death, but I guess not.

The first time it happened was the worst. My life had been going exactly how I wanted it to go, I had just asked the most amazing woman to marry me, I had my dream job and we had just bought our first house. It was perfect, until I died.

When I woke up in a cold sweat, a look of panic mixed with confusion strewn across my face, Jessica, my fiance, looked confused too. I thought she was confused because she had seen me die, she had been right there, but instead she kissed me like every other morning and asked me what was wrong. I stared at her like an idiot, didn't even kiss her back, I was too shocked. How was she not freaking out that her fiance, who had been smeared across the side walk the night before, was now laying beside her in bed?

Of course, when I asked her about it she gave me a concerned look and ran her fingers through my short, black hair like she always does when I'm upset in an attempt to comfort me, her green eyes searching my nearly black ones. "It was just a dream, Matt." She said to me in a sleepy voice. Just a dream. At first, I believed her. Of course it was just a dream. Things like that didn't happen outside of the movies. I nodded my head and kissed her back before laying down and holding her close to me. But there was a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, a voice in my head that whispered 'she's wrong. It wasn't a dream.'

I remember exactly how she looked, exactly how it happened and how it felt, because it was the same thing for an entire week. Now I just dont mention it, I hide it the very best that I can which is getting harder and harder by the day. I don't ask if she remembers me dieing because she has gotten concerned and suggested that I go talk with a therapist, insisting that it must be stress. I never get stressed, and she knows that.

Ever since the first time there has always been some small thing that was just off, nothing that would raise concern and something I didn't notice until much later, but those little discrepancies are always there. A word Jess never uses, something small like some decor missing in the house or my boss saying one little thing in a tone that was out of character for him. Things that could easily be passed off with some explanation, but I don't over look them anymore.

My biggest question is simply why? There are a million more I want answers to but how do I get them? God knows I've searched high and low for any kind of clue or answer or something that could explain why this is happening to me and why no one else notices. It's like my entire life is stuck in that one day. I can't even think of anything that stuck out the first time it happened.

I had been in a rush, I remember that, but that wasn't particularly a new thing. I hadn't met anyone different or really done anything out side of my normal routine. Am I going mad? Are these really just highly vivid dreams? Hell, maybe I do need to talk to someone...