"Seven dollars," the woman chirped.
Silver's smile faltered. Seven dollars? For a single slice of cheesecake? Her stomach dropped. In her excitement, she'd forgotten to check the price. Silver wanted to smack herself right that moment. She didn't plan spend that much today. But it's not like she could turn back the time.
The woman slid the box across the counter. "Just a moment." Silver flashed her a wry smile as she fished out her wallet in her bag. Her stomach churned. A single, neatly folded ten-dollar bill stared back at her. Abandoned and alone. That much could buy her two days' worth of instant noodles.
With a shallow sigh, she bit her lip and reluctantly handed over the bill.
The bell above the bakery door chimed as she stepped back onto the grimy sidewalk, the sweet scent of vanilla clinging to her clothes. The night was colder than usual, the wind carrying the acrid tang of exhaust fumes and something vaguely chemical. What a breath of city air.
She glanced back at the brightly lit bakery window, a pang of longing in her chest.
Dangerous place, that, she scolded herself.
Always makes her overspend.
Silver turned away quickly, hugging the box closer in her chest. If she had look longer, it wouldn't end with just 7 dollars, she can hardly justify spending that much.
"I deserve this," she muttered, trying to quiet the nagging voice of her empty wallet. It was her birthday, after all. And this is the only time of the year she would treat herself something expensive. Besides, it's better and cheaper than buying a whole cake she couldn't even finish herself.
Tilting her head to the sky, her eyes searched for the moon, but found only a thick blanket of smog.
Figures.
She was always at work before sunrise and always came home long after sunset. What did she even expect? There is nothing that lights up the city besides the city lights.
"No sun, I guess no moon for me either." She shrugged. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt the sun on her skin. No wonder she was so pale. She was severely lacking of vitamin D.
"I've been working so damn hard my whole life, why am I still broke?" she grumbled, hugging the box tighter like it was the most precious thing in the world. Because for now, it is.
Silver Forbe. Twenty-six. Orphan. A single overworked office worker. Perpetually exhausted.
The current economy was so bad she couldn't even afford a decent apartment despite working herself raw for the past 10 years. Frustrated, she kicked the tiny stones on the pavement as she walked.
Her feet brought her to a narrow street. The only road leading to her apartment. However, the closer she got to her apartment, the narrower the street became. The damp smell of the alley was stronger after the day's rain, seeping into the crevice of everything emitting a pungent odor. She winced. She had thought she'd get used to it after a few months of living in that hell hole—she couldn't have been more wrong.
Her nose scrunched. If she'd known how foul it really was, she wouldn't have stayed there, cheaper rent or not. A little bit more money could have afford her a better place, money she didn't have unfortunately.
Silver slowed down. The broken streetlight above her swayed left and right, creaking with every gust of wind. It was hanging by a thread, or in this situation a wire. She had asked for it to be fixed weeks ago, but her complaints were always ignored. Guess even the officers don't even want bother.
She let out an exhausted sigh, as she dug into her tote for her phone as the street is too dark to travel without a flashlight.
She was caught up she didn't notice the shadow creeping up behind her.
Something cold and hard pressed against her nape. Her whole body went cold, every nerve fighting for it's life.
"Give me all your money," a man growled, his voice raspy with breath sour of alcohol and tobacco.
In a flight or fight situation, her body chosen freeze. Her hand went limp, no matter how much she wanted to fight, it would ignore her. The box of cheesecake slipped from her grasp and thumble across the ground, hitting the concrete with a dull thud. There goes her expensive treat. At that very moment she wanted to cry, not because of the cheesecake but because she felt so pathetic for not being able to fight back.
Her heart raced, her mouth tried to pry open but it stayed silent, her throat caught as if constricted with barbed wire. Sweat prickled her forehead. Her mind racing trying to find ways to survive, but she couldn't form a single thought. At that point, she has no idea how to escape her situation.
With trembling fingers, she reached inside her tote. Each movement made the metal dig harder into her skin, the cold pressing so deep it's starting to burn. Her fingers fumbling, brushing past receipts and makeup, desperate to find something. Anything. She could use to defend herself.
The gun clicked. She can feel it, he was ready to fire.
Silver swallowed hard, panic crashing over her whole being. Her bag slipped from her grip causing everything to scatter across the wet concrete, the sound unnervingly loud in the empty street. Her heart sank. It felt like her end just started flashing in her mind.
The man's attention flicked to the fallen bag. For a split second, the gun lifted from her neck.
She took the chance.
She didn't think much. She just swung her arm at him with all the strength her wobbly knees could muster. The robber stumbled back, losing his balance.
She ran even if her body refused to, even if her feet is unusually heavy. All she can think about is to escape. As long as she survive…
Bang!
The sound of the gunshot tore through the night, echoing down the alley.
Something slammed into her back like a sledge, her entire world tilting followed by a searing heat tearing through her ribs as if they had been shattered from within. She crumpled to the ground. Overwhelmed by the blinding and searing pain exploding across her body. Blood bubbled up in her mouth as it spill across the pavement leaving a metallic aftertaste. The footsteps scurried away into the distance until it finally faded, and there she was left alone, her body collapsed in the cold concrete, a warmth of liquid pooled beneath her. If she just lived…yet no one came to her rescue.
Twenty-six years, she cried.
In her mind she started counting the days she spent dragging herself through early shifts and late nights work to try and survive the unfair world she lived in. How she endured bullying time and time again for not having a parent, the time she had lowered her pride for a few pennies. All for the name of survival. In her mind, she wanted to remember happy memories while she take her last breath but instead loads of unpleasant memories gushed through her mind. The only kind of memories she ever had.
Silver let out an internal chuckle, she's now realizing how pathetic she lived all those years. Her every day being a matter of convincing herself that if she only endured a little longer, a day would come that everything would turn for the better.
But she never got there.
She still wanted to live…to travel, to rest, to laugh without worrying about the bills, to experience the warmth of love that could warm her lonely heart and to create a family she never had. Her wish is so simple yet…
All of it is still not within her grasp.
Guess, it was too much to ask from someone like her.
Now she lay alone in a filthy alley, blood darkening the concrete beneath her. A bitter, incredulous chuckle bubbled up through her pain. Tears came—her years of quiet fatigue pooled and overflowed. She bit her lip until it tasted like iron.
"I thought… if I just tough it out, everything would be okay," Her voice was a ragged whisper as warm tears continued to stream down her face like a river. Her chest convulsed. Every breath inching her closer to death.
Her chest heaved followed by a searing pain. Breathing became labor, she has never experience as cruel as what she's currently feeling. Regret washed over her relentlessly like a tide. Everything felt like a cruel game of fate.
Her vision started to narrow, shapes dissolved into the distance, the only thing she can see is the dim light at the end of the alley. She lifted one shaking hand toward it as if trying to grasp the remaining thing that reminds her she was alive.
Inside her she begged again and again. And she kept begging to stay alive until the bitter darkness swallowed her whole.
A bell chimed.
It jolted her awake.
"Do you want me to pour you a tea, Your Majesty?"
Her eyes wandered at the woman holding a porcelain kettle. Everything felt abrupt, Silver flung the tea cup in her hand away as it burned through an unfamiliar feeling, the shattering sound echoed through the ground. What was happening?
"I'm sorry your Majesty! I commited a crime worthy of death." the womans voice tore through her ears.
Her gaze shifted at the woman who was now bowing in beneath her knees, her forehead kissing the floor. She stood up in panic, the chair making screeching noises.
Everything confused her. One moment she was on the filthy alley, another moment she was in this strange place. How is that even possible?
Is this a near death illusions? she questioned herself.
Behind that supplicant stood five more attendants, their matching gowns rustling, faces pale and taut. Every one of them flinched with her slightest movement. Why do they act like she was gonna eat them? She doesn't even know them.
Her chest heaved, ragged and uneven. Her glanced shifted at the broken teacup beneath her feet.
A teacup? Why is she even holding that teacup in the first place.
Silver's gazed fell on her hand—it was met with pale, slender, and delicate han. Looking nothing like the calloused hand she knew from the years of experiencing hard labor.
She pressed her palms to her chest, searching for the wound that should have been there—the memory of the bullet and the searing pain was still so vivid to her, it was as if it still burned. Yet her fingers felt only unbroken skin. No blood, no wound, not even a scratch, her skin unusually soft and pale. The alley, the warmth of blood beneath her, the metallic taste all felt too vivid.
"Where… am I?" Her voice came out small, raw. Her palm covered in sweat.
"At the garden pavilion, Your Majesty," one of the women whispered, her eyes still fixed on the floor.
Her heart kicked. Her brows furrowed in disbelief. No matter how much she think about it, she cannot remember about a place like that. Garden? Pavilion? What kind of nonsense are they spouting. It's not even at least a bit familiar to her.
Her breath came at her a little too fast making her almost suffocate. Silver was clutching her hair as tears welled in her eyes.
None of it made sense to her. She died. She knew she died everything that happened was too vivid for it to be a dream. But she was standing on her feet. Breathing.
She stumbled from beneath the glass-domed garden dragging her trembling knees.
Outside, a castle rose before her—vast, gleaming, and unlike anything she had ever seen. Her knees buckled as she collapsed into the cold stone. It was like she was inside a fever dream.
"Your Majesty! What is happening?" the attendants cried, panic threading their voices as they run towards her.
Silver couldn't answer, her throat was caught in her lungs. Her chest heaving uncontrollably she could hardly breath. Her throat ached. The tears fell freely in her place. The panicking attendants tried to hold her up but even her body is too heavy.
Silver grabbed the sleeve of one of them, the woman's face flashing a mix of fear and confusion. "I'm alive," her throat ache, tears welling up. Next time she knew, she was sobbing like a kid as she kept muttering the same set of words over and over again.
"I'm alive. I'm alive. I'm alive…"
She clung to those words like they were the only thing keeping her sane, sobbing until the world blurred and darkness swallowed her whole.