Ouch. My head hurts.
The breeze swept through my hair as I ran to catch up with Jason, who was already waiting with that weird look — the kind that said, "What the hell is wrong with her?"
"What's wrong?" I asked breathlessly when I reached him.
He just stared at me, eyes unreadable, before replying flatly, "You don't look fine."
I laughed it off. "But I feel great."
Jason turned and started walking away. Something in me wanted to throw a stone at him, to force him to stop walking away, but I did the opposite. I ran after him, shouting words that tumbled out before I could stop them:
"I'll stand by you till the ends of the earth! Tell me… do you love me?
He turned, a small smile breaking across his face. "Yes," he said softly. "Yes, I love you."
But as I moved closer, something shifted. A voice — sharp, familiar — grew louder in my head. My mother's voice. I frowned, confused. The faster I ran toward Jason, the louder her voice became.
Then, without warning, a stone flew in my direction. Before I could dodge, it struck my head. Not with crushing force, but with a weight that reverberated through me. Pain spread across my skull, and with a cry, the illusion shattered.
The dream dissolved.
I opened my eyes. Reality was waiting.
My mom sat beside me, her hand still raised after flicking my forehead. "Wake up, Jessica. You'll be late for school."
I groaned, muttering under my breath. She pulled me up anyway. "Before your dad gets mad, hurry."
Her voice faltered, breaking with something heavier than annoyance. When I looked up, I saw tears glistening in her eyes. Without thinking, I stepped forward and hugged her tightly.
"Everything will be alright," I whispered. "I promise. What happened before… it will never happen again."
We held each other a moment longer, until she pushed me gently toward the bathroom.
Steam filled the shower as I turned on the water, but my mind slipped into darker corners. I pressed my fingers hard against my temples, fighting to keep myself from sinking too deep into my subconscious.
Not again.
But the panic came anyway. My chest tightened. My breath caught in jagged gasps. My body went numb. I clutched at my heart, clawing for air that wouldn't come. My legs buckled beneath me.
Just before I collapsed, I slammed the shower knob off and let my forehead fall against the cold tile wall. Pain shot through my skull — sharp and real — pulling me back, grounding me.
I was awake. I was here. But the shadows of my subconscious were always waiting, just beyond the edges of reality.
The bathroom light flickered.
I lifted my head slowly, staring into the mirror through a haze of steam. For a second, I swore the reflection staring back at me wasn't mine — the same face, the same features, but the eyes were colder, darker. Watching me.