Hao woke up with his head spinning.The world felt wrong, like time itself had been torn open. His stomach churned, his vision blurred. This wasn't just a bad dream — it was like being drunk without touching a drop.
He stumbled out of bed, one hand on the wall for support, and headed for the bathroom.
From the kitchen, his mother's sharp voice cut through the air:"Stop pretending! You're still going to school even if you're sick!"
Hao froze for a second. In his old life, his mother was always like this — never letting him stay home unless he was on the edge of collapse. The same cold rules, even now.
He closed the bathroom door behind him, shut out her voice, and stared at himself in the mirror. Pale face, dark eyes. Water splashed over his cheeks, but it didn't wash away the spinning inside his head.
"Why… why did time skip two years?" he whispered. "Yesterday it was my first day… and now?"
His mind flashed to last night's dream — the white light, the noise, the crying voices."He only has one month left…"
The words echoed. Was it a warning? A memory? Or something else?
"Are you done yet? I need to get ready too!" His younger sibling knocked on the door, breaking his thoughts.
Hao straightened up, dried his face, and opened the door. His body still felt weak, but he could move. He grabbed his bag and forced himself to walk.
"Tomorrow… will it skip again?" The question burned in his chest as he stepped outside, the morning sky above him heavy and cold.