Being dead for a thousand years is not something worth talking about.
A sudden flash of blinding light struck the face of the creature lying inside an ancient casket, its wood cracked with age and stained by time. Dust danced in the air like restless spirits disturbed from their slumber.
For the first time in a millennium… she felt warmth.
Sunlight.
Who is that? her inner voice whispered, her voice very sharp.
Who dared to set me free?
Slowly, the monster's eyes fluttered open. The sun burned directly into her pupils, forcing a hiss from between her dry, cracked lips. Her body trembled as she pushed herself upright. Bones cracked violently, joints snapping and twisting as though rusted metal was grinding back into place after centuries of stillness.
She inhaled sharply.
"I am free…"
Her voice was hoarse and inhuman.
"I am free!" she screamed again, laughter bursting from her chest — wild and unhinged.
Then her gaze shifted.
In the far corner of the dim room, a beautiful young girl crouched behind a wooden table, trembling, her wide eyes filled with horror. She looked almost identical to me just that unlike the ugly me she was beautiful.
The monster tilted it's head slowly.
How fascinating.
She moved forward with predatory grace, her steps uneven yet deliberate. Her lips curled back, revealing sharp teeth as a low growl rumbled from her throat.
In one swift motion, she grabbed the lady by the neck.
I tried to scream, but no sound came out.
It's grip tightened on the young lady's neck draining her life force. Her body struggled helplessly as something invisible — something warm — was ripped from inside her. Her strength faded. Her vision blurred.
The monster's body convulsed violently, twisting as though invisible chains were snapping back into place. I heard the sickening sound of bones resetting — like rusted locks clicking open after centuries.
Pain.
Then silence.
When she finally released me, her appearance had changed. Her skin was no longer pale and cracked. Her eyes no longer hollow. She looked… human.
Beautiful.
She smiled.
And then she vanished into the human world, leaving the almost lifeless girl on the cold floor.
I shot up from my bed with a gasp.
My chest heaved violently as sweat clung to my skin. My sheets were soaked. My hands trembled as I pressed them against my face.
It was just a dream.
But it didn't feel like one.
I grabbed the glass of water beside my bed and gulped it down desperately. The cool liquid barely calmed the fire burning in my throat.
The dream felt too real.
My eyes shifted to the wall clock.
I was late.
And right on cue, my mom's voice echoed from downstairs, screaming my name.
"Oh… man," I muttered, throwing the covers aside.
After a hurried warm bath, I stood before my mirror — and froze.
A red mark.
On my neck.
Clear.
Visible.
As if someone had strangled me.
My fingers trembled as I touched it. A chill crept down my spine.
"No… it was just a dream," I whispered, shaking my head.
Trying to ignore the uneasiness crawling beneath my skin, I grabbed random clothes from my wardrobe. I didn't care what I wore — as long as it covered my body, it was fine. Unlike my cousin Helen, who dressed like she was attending a fashion show every single day.
After making sure the red mark was hidden, I rushed downstairs.
"Good morning, Mom."
"Good morning, Dad."
I pecked them lightly on the cheek and took my seat between them. Helen sat opposite me, looking flawless as usual.
"Good morning, Clover," she greeted sweetly.
My mood instantly darkened.
I hated that name. Clover. It made my stomach twist. Who names their child Clover?
"You don't have to greet me," I muttered coldly.
Everything she did irritated me. The way she smiled. The way she dressed. The way she existed so effortlessly.
I was a few months older than Helen, yet she was always the favorite. Always glowing. Always perfect. Even when I tried to dress up, I somehow looked worse.
"Why are you snapping at her?" my mom asked as she and Dad joined the table. Then her eyes scanned my outfit. "And why are you dressing like a boy today? Look at Helen — she looks beautiful."
Not again.
Every day, the comparisons.
Grabbing a piece of bread, I stuffed it into my mouth and gulped down my tea.
"I'm done," I muttered, standing up quickly. "Thanks for the food."
I grabbed my bag and rushed out before another comparison could stab me in the chest.
I didn't want to walk with Helen.
We weren't in high school anymore. I wanted to walk alone. I was tired of being measured against her shadow.
Helen wasn't just beautiful.
She had perfect grades too.
While I… always came last..