[Music Recommendation: “In Silence” by Janet Suhh (It’s Okay Not To Be Okay OST)-available in Youtube or Spotify] ~ Please listen to it in a loop while you read this part to experience the utmost beauty of this chapter ~ Also, prepare some tissues T_T ~

“Take care of your brother for me.”

That was what my mom always used to say to me. From when I was a mere kid, up until I grew to be a teenager, and even when I became an adult. She was kind and loving, though sickly. And my brother was too young—we had a big age gap of five years. As for my dad, well… don’t ask.

Whenever she would say that, me who loves my mom so much, would always reply…

“Yes, mom.”

“Of course.”

“Anytime.”

“Always.”

Since my mom was sick, we had no Dad, and my brother was too young to take on work, the responsibility of upholding our family was left in my hands. “Bread-winner” was what they called people like me. It’s very common in Asian countries—or maybe even in the western ones. Sounds nice yes, my relatives would always compliment how filial I was but nobody completely understood how “heavy” that burden really was, especially for the young me back then. I was merely sixteen, and I had to abandon college to work my *** off… in order to support our family.

Over the years of working, eating, sleeping, and repeating the same process with no goal in life, I would admit that... I began to question myself.

‘If I keep on taking care of my brother… Who will take care of me?’

Too bad I realized that a little too late. I’m now 30 years of age, with no relationship whatsoever except for my family and a few good friends, no personal achievements in life except maybe the fact that I was able to help my brother graduate as a doctor-he always wanted to be one, no properties to my name, no memories I’m really fond of, no dreams or hopes or passion. And what’s worse, I caught a rare disease because of my weakened immune system from overwork and fatigue. The doctor told me I only have a few months to live.

So now, I simply lay on the hospital bed, waiting for the day my life ends…

Sitting on the hospital bed, staring blankly on the window on a rainy day, I couldn’t help but look back in my life, trying to reminisce about some wonderful memories. I didn’t notice it but in just a few moments, tears started pouring down from my eyes…

Perhaps it was because I was near death’s door that I could finally come face to face with my true self. The self that I tried so hard to hide all these years because I did my best in being a filial daughter. Because I did my best to understand, persevere, not give up, and to sacrifice… everything.

To the point that I already lost who I was along the way.

To the point that I forgot that I am a living, breathing, human being!

That I, too, used to have dreams I wanted to achieve!

That I, too, used to have passions I wanted to pursue!

That I, too, longed to be loved and understood!

That I, too, for once… wanted to be a little selfish.

“Sniff… sniff… sniff…” I bit my lips as I cried hard. I didn’t want anyone to hear me and disturb me. I just wanted to be alone and be with my long-lost self.

That rainy day, I cried my heart out until all my tears dried up. Next day, my mother and brother visited me but I was in no mood to talk. Then a couple of friends came the next, and a few relatives the day after. I was uninterested in whatever they were saying. It was all useless now—their pity, the offer of help, their cries, their attention. They should have given those to me back when I was struggling. What use would I have of them now? Nothing. My life was ending. It was funny how people only notice one’s importance when they’re gone… or would be gone.

“Senara,” a familiar voice called out to me one day, on a blazing sunset, like the color of my hair.

I turned around to look at her—the only person I had the energy to talk to, and the only person who truly understood me—my best friend, Hora.

All she did was show up, and there I was with a wretched face, and tears rolling down my face in an uneven manner.

“H-Hora…,” I barely managed to speak her name.

She rushed towards me, crying as well, and held me in her warm embrace. Hours passed with us just simply hugging and crying, not even saying a single thing.

It took me a while to recover. When I did, I tried my best to smile at her. If I end up dying at that moment, I at least wanted her to see me leave with a smile on my face.

“Senara, you’re so young,” Hora sobbed again as she caressed my sunken cheeks. “Still so young… sniff… sniff… How can this be? All your life you lived for them. You didn’t even get to enjoy anything! Why you? Why can’t it be just somebody else?”

I patted her shoulders, trying to calm her down.

“Don’t say that, Hora. It’s bad to wish for others’ misfortune.”

“But what about you? You deserve to be happy! You can’t die yet! Not like this… sniff… sniff.”

Deep inside, I agreed with her.

“If only I could go back in time… I’ll make sure to live my life for my sake and not somebody else’s.”

Yes, maybe that way I wouldn’t have so many regrets on my deathbed right now.

Alas, my flesh failed, leaving only those words as parting to my friend. It came without notice. I thought I still had a couple of days more… I didn’t even get to thank her for a lot of things. Last thing I remembered was her face frantically calling out my name.

“Senara! Noooo!!! Wake up! Please! Wake up!”

[Music Recommendation: "Dreamy Shards" by Yasunori Mitsuda (Chrono Cross OST)-available in Youtube or Spotify] ~ Please listen to it in a loop while you read this part to experience the utmost beauty of this chapter ~

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock…

I’m not entirely sure what happened… but suddenly, I’m hearing the sound of a ticking clock—not just one, but lots of them, all around me.

“Ugh,” I groaned, trying to open my eyes but I couldn’t.

I felt myself lying down. Weird. Why do I still “feel” something? I’m supposed to be dead. Was this what the afterlife feels like? Hearing and feeling but not moving? I felt like a tied up ghost.

Then, a warm hand caressed my cheeks. How odd. Even if I couldn’t see who it was, I somehow knew it belonged to a woman. How kind and loving her touch was.

“You’ve suffered so much,” she said. It seems my guess was correct. “This time, please make sure to be happy.”

Hm? Make sure to be happy? This time? What did she mean by that? Not being able to talk or move was hard. I wanted to ask so many things. But before my thoughts materialized, my body felt heavy, and my consciousness slowly drifted once again.

…

…

…

…

…

“...-ra.”

A faint whisper.

“...-nara.”

It’s getting louder.

“Senara! Wake up!”

Hmm, I know that voice.

“The teacher is calling you!”

Huh? Teacher? Am I dreaming? I tried to move my arms—to my surprise, they did. Slowly, I opened my eyes next. The light was a bit blinding but once my vision adjusted, I saw Hora in front of me, in her high school uniform. Turns out, I was sleeping on a desk so I got up and smiled at her.

Was it just me or Hora seemed to look a lot younger? No. She did look too young. 14? 15? 16? Yes, that’s how she looked when she was around that age—very slim, around 5’5 in height, perfect v-shaped face, tall nose bridge, bright blue eyes like the clear morning sky, and a really pretty, wavy, honey blonde hair that extends to her waist. She’s a real beauty. If only she listened to me and became an actress, she’d definitely be popular.

“Why are you wearing your high school uniform, Hora? Are you cosplaying?” I chuckled, asking her about a thought I was really curious about. What a great dream. I never imagined she liked cosplaying. She loved to dress up, but this was a different level in more ways than one.

“Had a nice dream, Ms. Senara Lee?” a stern voice coming from behind snapped me out of my thoughts. I immediately jolted upon hearing it, so I turned around to see who it was. I could have sworn he sounded like -

“Sir Greg!” I wasn’t able to stop myself and bursted out. ‘Why is he in my dream?’ Hora’s definitely okay to be in my dream, but my old teacher in high school? What the heck is going on?’

“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” Everyone in the room laughed out loud.

It was only then that I noticed I was inside a familiar-looking classroom. A large chalkboard at the front, five rows of tables and desks carefully aligned in front of it, shoe racks and some cabinets at the sides. And those two doors at the opposite corner of the room, large windows covered by thick curtains on a sunny day except my area—I sat near the window at the far end corner. I always opened the curtains despite the heat. I loved the blazing sun—well, except maybe, when it's too hot and it's already scorching my skin. But on a clear spring day like this one, I loved how it felt warm on my skin.

The room wasn’t the only thing that looked familiar. Even the faces of the students inside the classroom were all too familiar to me—they were my classmates when I was younger—though I already forgot what the names of some of them were. My memory wasn’t my best asset. You could tell me your name a dozen times, but unless I spend my days with you daily for perhaps a year or so, I would easily forget them as soon as we stopped meeting. I would remember your face, but not the name. Or maybe I was just too busy to even hangout with anyone to remember them? I’m not sure.

“Are you fully awake now, Ms. Senara Lee?” my teacher asked again.

“Y-yes, sir!” I found myself instantly replying, even if I’m still a bit confused about the whole situation. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

He sighed and tapped my shoulders after. Then, he whispered in a way only I would hear. “I know your mom and dad are having troubles right now, but please make sure you still take care of yourself. I hope everything becomes okay soon.”

Ahh… he’s really kind. I knew this entire scene. It happened before, when I was 16 and still in high school. And those words of kindness were one of the things I treasured, probably why I still remember Sir Greg’s name. He was one of those one-in-a-million amazing teachers who really care for their students.

My heart stung and throbbed. Tears started to build up in my eyes—I tried to hold them, of course. I didn’t want to cry in the middle of class, so I simply bowed my head and lowered down my eyes.

‘Why is this scene repeating? Is this some sort of thing in the afterlife?’

Then, I remembered the wish I made before I died.

“If only I could go back in time… I’ll make sure to live my life for my sake and not somebody else’s.”

Along with that kind voice I heard a few moments ago.

“This time, please make sure to be happy.”

I never believed in fairytales or magic, or anything alike. The harsh reality of the world crushed all those for me.

But… Could it be? Did I… travel back in time?

[Music Recommendation: "The Name of Life" by Joe Hisaishi (Spirited Away OST)-available in Youtube or Spotify] ~ Please listen to it in a loop while you read this part to experience the utmost beauty of this chapter ~

The class resumed after that and the day went on just as I remembered it.

Sir Greg taught us Music, Arts, Physical Education and Health—MAPEH for short, every day at 9 o’clock. It was funny how it's followed by Trigonometry because those two subjects use opposite sides of the brain. Maybe the curriculum wanted one side of our brains to rest for a bit before going on to the next one. Not sure if it helped me in remembering the lessons but maybe it did since I graduated valedictorian. Too bad I mostly forgot everything I learned from school when I started working. Most of them didn’t really have any relation to the job I took, so they were kinda useless. Looking back at it now, instead of studying so hard when I was at school, maybe I shouldn’t have been too strict with myself and had a little fun.

After Trig was lunchtime, my favorite time. I always had the appetite of a man, despite my slim figure. Blame it all on metabolism. Yeah, metabolism I didn’t have anymore when I grew older, hence, making me chubby. It’s great to feel so light again and still be able to eat lots of food. I spent lunch with Hora and a few more friends like we usually did.

Then comes the afternoon classes—Physics, English, Technology, and last, Economy and Politics. Sometimes there would be extra lessons about Values Education, usually during Thursday. But today was Monday, as Hora kindly reminded me, so when the bell rang, we immediately got up from our seats and prepared to go home.

Our family were one of the well-off ones who lived only a few blocks away from school since we lived inside an Executive Village where all the establishments a family would need were already inside. Be it grocery stores, restaurants, hospitals or clinics, schools, even churches. There was also a clubhouse with swimming pools the homeowners could use. Security was tight on all entrances, and patrols roamed the streets every now and then. The only thing you wouldn’t be able to find inside would probably be a Shopping Mall since they built most malls on highly frequented areas.

Hora and I walked home together like how we’ve always done in the past. Our houses were just a block away from each other. As we walked home, I continued to deliberate if all of this was real—if I really travelled back in time. And as we did, every place and every corner we passed through were exactly how they used to be. Even the news being played on the tv of the appliance shop near our home was familiar to me—about the boy who was only 16 but already managed to graduate college. I remembered him because he became a hot topic at school the next day the news aired. All the girls were gossipping about how handsome he was. Despite the boy’s privacy claims, it seemed that a reporter still managed to get footage of him. Once his picture was out for the whole world to see, the news changed from “A genius prodigy who graduated college at 16” to “A handsome genius who graduated college at 16”—amazing, right? After all, ‘Visuals is one of the secrets of a great advertisement’. And when I say ‘Visuals’, I mean faces, yeah, face values.

“Ma Kaiden,” the news anchor said.

Must be Chinese. If I’m not mistaken, ‘Ma’ should be his last name and ‘Kaiden’ should be the first name. They always had it in reverse, right? Chinese, Koreans, and the like? To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure of it before. I just thought that Kaiden would be better as a first name—it was pretty cool to the ears.

“OMG! He’s so enchantingly handsome!,” Hora squealed the moment she saw the ‘footage’ of him. Actually, he was just jogging in the footage, wearing white shorts and an almost fitted black shirt while listening to music, maybe, on his earphones—nothing special. But Hora quickly ran towards the tv playing the news and almost kissed the shop’s glass window in an attempt to get a closer look. “Look, Sena! Come here!” she waived at me.

She’s so funny and energetic. I’ve always felt like having a sister with me all the time. I came closer to her and looked at the boy on the news she was squealing over.

Seeing him up close, I would agree that he’s really handsome—even for a teenager. He had long legs making up for his tall stature of probably around 5’9? Or 5’8? Combined with his broad shoulders and lean, muscular physique, you could mistake him for a model or a celebrity. As for the face, he had that bad-boy, uninterested, cool and aloof type of face. Slim, sharp nose, perfect jaws, healthy-looking skin, sharp-looking eyes in a gorgeous dark amethyst shade like his straight and silky hair.

Wait a minute, weren’t purple eyes extremely rare? Woah! Sometimes the world could be so unfair! He was a handsome genius already PLUS he had purple eyes?! I never felt so envious. Give me those eyes! That means he didn't have any facial or body hairs, right? Just his hair on the head, which was also dark violet? Was that natural? Darn. So lucky of him.

Anyway, there’s still a possibility of all this just happening in my head. I mean, come on, purple eyes and hair? A handsome genius? I never really saw how he looked like before, so I’m not sure. I guess I’ll know when tomorrow comes. If I sleep and wake up, still on this timeline, then this probably wasn’t a dream.

Hours passed, and night came after that. I had a quiet dinner with my family of four—my mom, dad, and younger brother. Then I went to my room and slept. Morning came, and despite that, I still found myself on the same timeline.

Now, I’m convinced. No matter how far-fetched it was.

I really time-travelled for some reason. Probably that woman who spoke to me before coming back here. Or maybe an act of God?

Upon finally believing that fact, I didn’t know what to feel. But one thing’s for sure.

This time, I will live MY life the way I want it to!

I will live for MYself!