What I regret the most isn't dying.
It's that I didn't see it coming… not the betrayal, not the car, not the way my whole world ended before my heartbeat did.
My name is Ari, and tonight, I learned that love doesn't just break you. It empties you, until even your own reflection looks like a stranger trying to survive in your skin.
The hallway lights in my apartment flicker as I fumble for my keys. It's past nine. My shift at the publishing firm ended two hours late because deadlines don't care about heartbreak or hunger.
My sister Jane texted earlier "Come home early. I made dinner also Ethan said he has a surprise for you."
I smiled at that, like a fool.
The lock clicks, and the scent of candle wax and wine greets me. Romantic. Too romantic.
For a second, I think maybe he's trying to make up for all the arguments we've had about my job taking too much of my time. About me "not being present enough." About him "feeling neglected."
But then I hear it.
A soft, rhythmic sound.
Breathless. Desperate.
The kind of sound that doesn't seem right.
My pulse stumbles. "Ethan?"
Silence and then a gasp, high and feminine. I know that voice. I'd know it anywhere.
It's my sister's.
I don't move. I don't scream. I just… stand there, listening to my world crumble behind a thin bedroom door. Every sound feels like a knife twisting in my chest, the kind of pain that makes you forget how to breathe.
My fingers tremble around the doorknob. I could walk away. Pretend. Leave.
But I open it.
The room smells like sweat and wine.
Sheets tangled. Limbs tangled.
And there they are… my fiancé and my sister frozen mid-motion, eyes wide, faces pale.
For a second, nobody says anything. Then Ethan pulls the blanket up, his voice stammering, "Ari, it's not—"
"Don't," I whisper. It's the only thing that comes out.
My sister, Jane, clutches the blanket to her chest. "It just happened—"
I laugh quiet, shaky, broken. "You 'just happened' to fall on my fiancé?"
Her mouth opens but no words come. Ethan tries to reach for me, but I step back. I can't even look at him. The man who used to hold me like I was everything now looks like a stranger caught in his own trap.
"I left work early for you," I say, voice barely steady. "I thought maybe we could fix us. I thought maybe I was still someone worth loving."
He says my name again, but it sounds foreign, like a lie.
My throat tightens. The ring on my finger feels heavier than ever. I slide it off and place it on the dresser, the same dresser I built when we first moved in together. "You can keep it. You already took everything else."
And then I turn away because if I stay, I'll break in ways I can't recover from.
The night air hits me like a slap as I step outside. The city hums, distant and unaware, the lights blurring through the tears I refuse to wipe. My heels click against the pavement as I walk… no, run toward the bridge.
The wind bites through my jacket. I can still smell them on my skin… candle wax, perfume, betrayal. I want to scrape it off, erase it, anything to stop feeling like this.
My phone vibrates in my hand, Ethan calling again. I stare at the screen until it blurs, then fling it into the river. It splashes once and disappears, just like the future I thought I had.
"Congratulations, Ari," I whisper to myself. "You survived every horror story you wrote, only to die in your own."
Headlights flood the bridge, blinding me. I turn too late.
The sound of screeching tires drowns out everything.
Impact.
Weightlessness.
Silence.
Then… something strange.
Not pain. Not even fear.
Just a heavy stillness.
When I open my eyes, I'm standing somehow in front of an old, fog-covered bus station. The air is cold, metallic, humming with an emptiness I can't describe.
The bridge is gone. The city's gone.
Even the stars look wrong.
A bus rolls out of the fog… ancient, rusted, its headlights flickering like dying candles. It screeches to a stop, door creaking open.
Inside is darkness. Thick and endless.
I step back instinctively. "Nope. Not doing this."
But then a voice from inside says, "What's she doing?"
Another voice answers, amused, "Being a scared newbie."
Before I can move, a hand shoots out cold, strong grabbing my wrist and pulling me in.
I crash into someone. A man.
He's tall, handsome, dark-haired, his eyes like storm clouds that have seen too much.
Before I can ask who he is, a metallic voice echoes from the bus speaker:
"Initializing Player Data
Welcome to the Survival Game. Try not to die again."
My heart, if I even still have one… stops.
Dead?
The man meets my gaze. "You'll get used to it."
And just like that, I realize my story isn't over.