---
✨ Chapter 3 : Morning Chaos
Darkness.
Then light,blinding, fragmented, and cold.
Aislinn ran through the mist, her breath ragged, her heart pounding. A voice echoed somewhere ahead,familiar yet distant, calling her name again and again. "Aislinn!"
She reached out, fingers brushing against something warm, and a hand, trembling and small. "Kai?" she whispered.
But just as their hands met, the ground gave way. A sharp ringing filled her ears. The light shattered into pieces.
Everything dissolved into pain.
Grrrrrwwwwinnnnng!
The shrill scream of the alarm tore her from the nightmare, snapping her back to the present. Her body jerked, heart still racing, sweat clinging to her skin as the ringing in her ears grew louder—too real this time, too sharp.
She groaned, dragging the blanket over her head. "Ughhh… it's morning already?"
The alarm didn't care. It just kept blaring, mercilessly loud, like the echo of her dream refusing to fade.
"People are really out here messing with time," she muttered sleepily, voice muffled by the pillow. "How can I blink once and boom ,it's morning?"
Her muffled scream echoed through the small, dim room as she buried her face deeper into the pillow, her honey-brown hair sprawled around her like a messy halo.
The curtains were drawn tight, keeping every ray of sunlight out ,as if the sun itself was being told, 'You're not welcome here, please stay away.'
It was either her or Kamari—her ever-thoughtful younger sister ,who'd made sure the light didn't intrude on their fragile peace.
"Kamari… shut this damn thing up, will you?" she groaned. But no answer came. The alarm kept going.
With an annoyed huff, she reached out, slammed the clock silent, and rolled over. Her almond-brown eyes finally fluttered open ,still sleepy, rimmed with fatigue, but undeniably beautiful.
The exhaustion in her gaze spoke louder than words. She hadn't slept properly in weeks, and her body was beginning to protest. That throbbing pain in her head ,the one that always came after that nightmare ,was already creeping back.
It was the same every time. The same darkness. The same little girl. The same crimson sky. But the moment she woke up, the dream scattered into fragments, refusing to stay. All that remained was the pain—the buzzing, the headache, and that unshakable heaviness in her chest.
Dragging herself out of bed, she let her eyes wander over the cramped room she and Kamari shared. The cracked walls, peeling paint, and faint scent of dust made the place feel older than time itself.
Sometimes, she wondered if one day the building would finally collapse from age,and if it did, whether she'd even have the strength to run.
Still, despite its condition, the room was neat. Kamari's touch was everywhere—folded clothes, neatly stacked books, and a small vase of wildflowers on the table.
Their shared bed took up most of the space, the single wardrobe stood stubbornly in one corner, and their little table doubled as a reading desk, an ironing board, and sometimes—even a makeshift kitchen counter.
They shared a communal kitchen and bathroom with the other tenants, though Aislinn preferred cooking inside their room to avoid the endless gossip of nosy neighbors. Privacy was a luxury, but peace of mind was priceless.
Aislinn sighed deeply. This… was home.
It wasn't much. Just an old room, worn-out shoes, faded clothes, and the weight of survival pressing on her every day. But it was all they had.
That—and each other.
To Kamari, home was Aislinn.
To Aislinn, Kamari was everything. Her reason to keep fighting.
Her gaze softened as she reached for the necklace around her neck—a delicate crystal pendant that shimmered faintly even in the dark. Hues of blue, purple, and a whisper of gold danced across its surface, like a secret world trapped inside.
It was beautiful—far too beautiful for someone living like this.
Her lips twitched into a small, wistful smile. "A princess's necklace," she whispered. "Or maybe… a curse."
It was the last thing her mother ever gave her. The day she disappeared, she had pressed it into Aislinn's tiny palm and said, "Never take it off. Protect it." Then she was gone. Her father followed soon after.
All that remained were broken memories—a car crash, a burning sky, a voice calling her name, and a boy named Kai.
Every time she tried to remember more, the pain returned. Her head throbbed violently, her vision blurred, and the ringing in her ears grew louder. It was like something—someone—didn't want her to remember.
She gritted her teeth, forcing the memories away.
Her reflection in the cracked mirror stared back at her—a girl who looked far stronger than she felt. Her honey-colored hair was tied into a loose ponytail that still reached her waist. Her almond eyes glimmered with determination and exhaustion. Her plump lips, fair skin, and delicate features mirrored the mother she barely remembered. Even the butterfly-shaped birthmark on her neck and the small mole under her right eye were exact replicas.
"Mother…" she whispered, fingertips brushing her reflection. "If you were here… maybe things wouldn't be this hard."
But there was no time for tears. Not today.
She folded the bedsheet, tidied the room, and glanced at the door. "Where did that girl run off to this early?"
Kamari hadn't eaten, hadn't taken her medicine either. Aislinn could already guess she was out helping someone—maybe running errands or selling odds and ends for a bit of cash.
"Stubborn brat," she muttered with fond irritation. "Always trying not to be a burden… even when she's the one I'm most scared of losing."
Kamari's illness was rare and cruel. A failing heart and an unknown disease that slowly drained her blood, weakened her organs, and stunted her healing. The doctors said there was no cure.
But Aislinn refused to believe that.
She worked herself to the bone every day—multiple jobs, endless shifts—all to save enough for treatment in the city. She'd even heard rumors of a secret facility working on advanced medicine, maybe even something that could save Kamari's life.
That thought alone kept her going.
"I have to grow stronger," she whispered fiercely, gripping her pendant tight. "No—I need to grow stronger. For her. For the truth. For everything we lost."
Her head throbbed harder, the ringing almost unbearable now. She sank to her knees, clutching her temples, breath uneven.
The necklace glowed faintly—soft, almost invisible at first. A pulse of light ran through it, soothing the pain, steadying her breath.
She didn't notice.
But when she finally rose, wiping the sweat from her forehead, she realized something—her headache had faded. The ringing had dulled to a whisper.
"Strange…" she murmured, staring at the pendant. "It's… different today."
The crystal looked as dull as ever, yet something deep within it seemed to hum faintly—alive.
Shaking the thought away, Aislinn forced a tired smile. "Morning jog first. Then find Kamari. Then work. The world won't survive itself."
She tightened her ponytail, grabbed her worn sneakers, and stepped out the door, muttering, "Let's go face another round of 'How to Survive the World.'"
The door clicked shut behind her.
And in the silence that followed, the pendant at her neck pulsed once—soft, golden, and warm—before fading into stillness again.