Morning arrived.
The sun peeked over the distant horizon, casting golden rays through the veil of dawn. Its light slowly bled into the world, pushing back the shadows and breathing warmth into the cold air.
Somewhere in an unfamiliar room, a boy stood silently in front of a mirror. His breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling as if he'd just finished running a marathon. Beads of sweat trickled down his pale forehead and dripped onto the cold floor.
He stared at the mirror with uncertainty, eyes locked on the reflection that stared back.
A boy.
Brown, messy hair.
Eyes so dark they looked like pits — bottomless and endless, like staring into the abyss.
Dark circles bruised the skin beneath those eyes, evidence of sleepless nights or maybe something worse.
His frame was lean, a little on the thin side, and his skin was almost unnaturally pale.
He wasn't ugly — no, far from it.
In fact, he looked almost handsome. Give him a haircut, clean clothes, and a decent meal, and he could easily turn heads.
If you're wondering who this kid is… well, surprise — that's me.
Yeah. I know what you're thinking.
Wait... didn't you just die? Like, not even that long ago?
Correct. I did. Blood loss, betrayal, lots of stabbing — not a fun way to go, trust me.
So, how the hell did things end up like this?
I imagine there are a million questions circling your mind right now. And yes, I will answer them all. Eventually.
Just give me a minute or two. Let me get my thoughts in order. My brain's still a bit scrambled — like someone shook a soda can and left it in the sun.
Okay, so — rewind.
It all started when my mother and father met and fell in love, and then they—
…Wait. Hold up.
Aagh, crap. I went too far back. That's not what I meant to say.
Damn this headache. It's been pounding behind my temples like a jackhammer and screwing with my thoughts. And to make matters worse, it's flooding my mind with random flashes — memories that don't belong to me.
Or maybe… they do.
Maybe these are his memories. The previous owner of this body.
Whoever he was, whatever he experienced, it's all slamming into my mind like waves in a storm. The emotions, the pain, the joy — they feel too real to ignore.
It's bizarre. I remember things I shouldn't. I know the smell of his mother's perfume. I remember his first heartbreak. I remember the feeling of falling from a tree when he was ten. The laughter, the sorrow, the small joys and crushing regrets.
And the strangest part?
It all feels like it happened to me.
I was there — feeling, tasting, living, existing.
But before we go diving into that sea of memories, let's go back to the real question.
How did I end up here?
Let's start from my death. When I bled out — when the darkness swallowed me whole and I took my final breath — I thought that was it. The end. Curtain call.
But death… wasn't the end. Not for me.
Instead, it was the beginning of something else entirely.
At first, there was only darkness. Cold. Empty. My consciousness floated through a black void, weightless, silent.
My grandfather used to tell me stories — how the soul is eternal, even if the body is not. He said that when our physical vessel dies, the soul departs and continues its journey.
Then comes the afterlife — judgment. Your good deeds and sins are weighed, and based on the result, you either ascend to heaven or fall into hell.
But me?
Neither side wanted me.
Heaven didn't open its gates.
Hell didn't claim me.
I was unwanted.
A rejected soul, drifting endlessly through the void.
Time passed — or maybe it didn't. Days? Years? Decades? I couldn't tell. In that place, there was no light, no sound, no sense of anything. Just… drifting. Wandering.
Until something changed.
A force — invisible but powerful — wrapped around my soul. At first, it was faint. Then stronger. Then unbearable.
It pulled me, dragged me, hurled me through space. I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't fight it. I was a leaf caught in a cosmic storm.
Faster and faster. Light began to flash around me. Noise returned. My thoughts blurred again. I couldn't breathe — or maybe I didn't need to.
And then —
BAM.
Awareness.
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. White. Smooth. Artificial.
That's when the pain hit me.
A searing, scorching, mind-breaking pain — like a hot iron spike being shoved into my skull. I screamed. I cursed. I begged for it to stop.
But it didn't.
Memories. Emotions. Feelings.
They flooded into me. Crashing down like a tsunami. Drowning me. Merging with me.
His life — his entire life — was being downloaded into my brain, pixel by pixel, moment by moment. And all I could do was suffer through it.
Eventually — after what felt like a lifetime — the pain stopped.
I gasped for air like a drowning man.
My body was soaked in sweat. My heart raced like a drumline at a parade. Every part of me ached.
And yet… I was alive.
I pulled myself out of bed — or maybe his bed — and stumbled toward the bathroom. I didn't think. I just moved. My feet knew the way.
Everything felt oddly familiar.
The hallway. The doorknob. Even the creaky sound the floor made.
And then I stood here — in front of this mirror.
Looking at someone else's face.
Someone else's life.
But with my thoughts, my memories… and his.
His name. His school. His routines. His regrets.
They're all there in my head, clear as day — like they've always belonged to me.
I know where I am. I know who he was.
But what I don't know… is why I'm here.
Why me?
Why his body?
Was it a mistake?
Fate?
Punishment?
I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this.
And yet… here I am. Breathing in his air. Walking through his world.Living a life that's not mine.
Not dead. Not alive.
Just stuck in between — carrying two sets of memories in one broken mind.
And that thought alone is more terrifying than death ever was.