A second chance.
That was what I wished for.
The one thing I prayed for every night before I sleep. The one thing I prayed for, at the very night before I woke up in an entirely different life.
A new life.
My second chance.
❈❈❈
I was 30 years old wh...
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—First life. Jung Family's Residence, year 2027—
I somehow found my way to the nearest powder room. Just in time when the aching pain on my back had become too unbearable to push away and for the bile rising inside my chest to press up. I was losing control over my body thanks to the massive rage I still had in me. And right at the time I entered the room, I started throwing up almost immediately, nearly missing out the toilet if only I had not pushed myself on the floor with the remaining energy I had left.
My legs lost their power after I cleaned up all the mess that I could barely rise up from the floor, until my hands reached the counter and I was able to use it as leverage to push myself up. I held on tight, cursing at my weakness and focusing on pushing away the excruciating pain. My eyes were closed tight that I could barely notice anything happening around me. Aside from the painful throbs happening on my whole body and the way everything seemed to be spinning around me.
And I certainly did not notice that my stepmother had opened the door which I had failed to lock, allowing her to find me in that current state.
"______! What is going on?" she leapt forward to catch me right when my hands were starting to lose their grip and I was slipping down to fall again. Her hands found their way to grab my waist, holding me up as much as she could until I found my balance, before helping me to stand straight. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"You don't look fine. Let me get you some water."
She reached for my back, accidentally touching my spine with her palm as she helped steady me up, allowing me to flinch when her touch landed right at where I was hurting most. She went stiff when she felt how my body was reacting and how a soft hiss came out of my lips. I felt her setting her curious eyes on me without saying nothing at first. I tried to look away and push myself off of her, only to be stopped by her hands that had reached out to grab my arm.
"______. Tell me what is going on."
With one of my hands still resting on the counter and the other clenched on my side, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before forcing myself to relax. I remembered perfectly how she came into our lives, remembered that she was also present back when everything crumbled into messy pieces. And I knew there was no way for me to hide it from her. If there was anyone who would know what was going on, it would be her. Because she had witnessed something similar happening in this house once.
After a moment of contemplating, I decided to give in and let her know the truth. Besides, I might be needing her help to leave this small room anyway, now that I could no longer trust my own legs to hold my weight. I leaned onto the counter, propping my weight on my palms, making sure that I would be able to stand up without having to put my weight on her. And then I started telling her everything—about my illness, about my fight, and why I decided to come tonight.
