Chapter Text
I woke up late. Again.
The sun shone angrily from the window to my right. I wondered whose stupid idea it was to put the bed by the window. But with my sister’s mini-office cubicle crammed in the room, there wasn’t much choice. She works from home—I do not. Lucky her.
I practiced in the bathroom how I’m going to smile and greet my coworkers once I show up thirty minutes late to work. Again.
The morning air felt hot on my skin, the smoke filling my nose. It was oddly refreshing though. The crowd going up the station was a familiar sight, each of us in a hurry to get on the next train. I’d bet most of us are doing the math on how much our lateness would cost us. I found that thought comforting.
The train operator announced my station. Ugh. Here we go.
***
“Amelia! Good morning! Sweat or shower?” asked Dani, my senior.
There was a running gag in our department: guess why my hair was wet. Was it because I didn’t have time to dry my hair, or was it because I ran from the station to the office? It’s actually a little funny. If this was happening to somebody else, I might have laughed. But since I’m the joke, it’s only half funny. No—a quarter funny. An eighth?
“Haha. It’s the shower today.” I answered cheerfully, already used to the teasing.
“Awww. You lost today. Coffee’s on you!” Dani pointed to John, another senior of mine.
John laughed. I laughed. We’re all thrilled, apparently. I went to buy coffee with them like it’s a ritual. Like it’s really okay.
Later that afternoon, the air-conditioner still hummed like it’s begging me to fix it when Dani announced that she bought some strawberry-flavored pastries.
Strawberries? I couldn’t eat it. I tried, really. In fact, if my taste buds had their own mind, they would probably rebel and protest. Form their own union.
Dani knew.
“Amelia, let’s eat!” our manager beckoned.
The sweet and sour smell—and smoke—wafted over to me as I walked. Smoke? Maybe something grilled? I looked at the table and saw strawberry-flavored pastries. I must have imagined it.
The air thrummed with excitement. Everyone else wasn’t as picky as me.
“I’m not hungry!” I announced.
“Dani,” Andy frowned at the pastries, hands on her hips, “don’t tell me you forgot that Amelia doesn’t like these?”
Really, just so kind. I hope her dinner’s yummy later.
“Democratic country, girl. You’ll live.” John said to me with food in his mouth. “Just buy something you like from the third floor.”
Buy something while he’s eating something for free—
I pressed my lips tight, his words echoing inside my head. As usual, I kept my face neutral, devoid of any emotion. I remembered just a week ago, when we all agreed to have ramen for our afternoon snack. We begrudgingly ate sandwiches that day instead because Dani doesn’t like ramen.
Dani hummed at the head of the table, enjoying her strawberry cheesecake. Envy almost crept in.
“Andy! Let’s share,” I said. “You get the part with the most strawberries.”
Only two hours left on my shift. That’s nothing. A year of strawberries was something I have come to tolerate.
John’s right, I’ll live.
***
Relief settled in as we lined up for the biometrics, work done for the day. I came out of the elevator, saying my farewells to Dani and John when I saw Anna—my best friend—standing by the entrance. Another one of her spontaneous hangouts. I’m already used to it, but I prefer things to be planned.
I narrowed my eyes at her, pretending to be annoyed. “Do you even go home?”
”Missed you too,” she shot back, tone smug. “Also, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t get out of the house. I’m doing Mal a favor.”
Mal, my sister, would always ask Anna to take me somewhere when she wants to be alone. I wished I had someone like Anna for Anna. She looped her arms around mine, pulling me somewhere loud and crowded again—for sure.
A few cars passed by, making me cough, the smoke choking me.
”Hey, you okay?” Anna asked, confusion and concern on her face.
I just nodded at her, smiling, wondering why she wasn’t coughing too.
Anna’s eyes stayed on me, suspicious. But she knew when not to push, so she just announced, “We’re going to an escape room!”
Oh, not crowded. Fine.
”I’m actually excited,” I deadpanned as I got inside her car.
She laughed, whisking me away from my office worries.
***
”Bye Ames!” Anna said from the driver seat as I escaped her. “I repeat, don’t give all your coins to the homeless or you’ll be one too!”
I just shooed her away.
My cats were already howling as I turned the hallway to our apartment. That’s the best thing about owning cats. Not cleaning the litter. Not breaking up cat fights. Not even bath time. It’s the incessant meowing once you come home. It probably meant, “What have you brought home, slave?” in cat language. But, I’ll take that over nonchalance.
I did my after-work routine: feeding the cats, eating dinner, cleaning the litter, showering, and watching a comfort anime with a random cat on my lap.
Cookie, my youngest, was hissing at the couch. I called him, concerned because he’s not usually like that. He hissed once more then strolled to another part of the living room, like nothing happened. Yep. My daily dose of cat weirdness.
Later on, I was reading through a comment section—whether what Eren did was right or wrong—when Mal shouted from the bedroom, “Ames! Lock up!”
I went to pick the cats up—Bambam, Lilith and Cookie—from the couch when a bright and blinding light suddenly flared around me.
It forced me to close my eyes.
Warm. Like a lightbulb left on for too long.
Buzzing. Like the air-conditioner at work.
I shielded my ears from the sound.
Then, it’s gone.
I smelled smoke. Was there a fire? No. I could hear footsteps, unhurried.
Wait. Footsteps? Mal? My cats? No. It sounded heavy.
I opened my eyes to people wearing… costumes. Insignias, a sun over a castle, stitched on the right side. Not modern. Definitely not jeans and a t-shirt.
They had cloaks on.
Am I that tired? How come I’m dreaming already?
Some people were writing things down using quill pens, the sharp pointy ends making scratching noises on parchment. The feathers on their pens looked a little silly to me.
Tables with half-eaten loaves of bread, maps, and scrolls—yes, those were scrolls—tossed around like scratch paper.
Blood rushed to my head. Heartbeat sped up.
Is this really a dream?
I closed my eyes and pinched my arm, trying to wake myself up, hoping the sound of Cookie’s meows would greet me.
No. Still here.
My heart ached. Not the good kind.
I was freezing, only wearing shorts and a t-shirt. No bra. I instantly covered my chest, trying to muster some dignity and composure.
Some guy wrapped his cloak around me, shielding me from the cold.
Decent people offer jackets—in this case, cloaks—to people who are cold, right?
With that sense of normalcy, literal warmth came back to me. Confirmation that this was real, not a hallucination. This wasn’t because I watched too much anime.
I felt something in the air, invisible and curious, clinging to me. Curious too, I reached out and felt static surrounding my hand. Like the shock you get when you stupidly touch a socket with wet hands. Sharp. Wrong.
My hand twitched.
What is this?
People started murmuring, and not the type where they think you’re awesome. It’s the one that says: “Oh no, we’re worried, we’re scared, what the hell is happening?”
I looked around and settled on a person who seemed calm enough to assess the situation. He had a belt around his waist that held a book at his side, looking eerily familiar.
That person stepped forward, back straight and chin up.
“We’re not supposed to summon a human here,” he said to me, eyes apologetic but guarded, filling me with dread.
His words hit like caffeine. It jolted me awake, enough to realize that this is nowhere near my couch.
I don’t belong here.
— end of Chapter One —