The world was growing quiet.
Rony lay on the side of the road, his body cold, trembling. The blood beneath him had painted the pavement in a haunting trail of crimson, a winding path from where hope had once lived to where it now slowly bled out. Around him, chaos danced—the echo of sirens in the distance, hurried footsteps of bystanders too afraid to step close, the frantic voices of the two strangers who had been trying to save him.
He was barely holding on.
His vision blurred again, black shadows flickering in and out like candlelight at the edge of its life. The pain had numbed now. It wasn't gone—it was just... dull, like a ghost that whispered in the corner of his mind, reminding him that time was running out.
Yet in all that, he smiled.
Not because he was unafraid, but because somehow, in this strange moment between life and death, he finally felt something he hadn't felt in years—peace.
The two people beside him were desperately trying to stop the bleeding, their hands shaking, their voices tight. "We need to get this pipe out—no, wait, we can't move it. He'll bleed out even faster!" one of them hissed.
But Rony was barely listening.
Instead, he shakily pulled his phone from his pocket. The cracked screen lit up weakly. His fingers, trembling and slick with blood, unlocked it slowly. He opened the chat with his sister.
Rony:>
Hey, little sis.
If you're reading this, I'm probably already gone.
His lips quivered, his throat tightened, but he kept typing, slower and slower, each word carved from the last drops of his strength.
Don't cry too much, okay?
In my room, there's a small cabinet. The bottom drawer has a blue folder. Inside it, you'll find a bank card. The PIN is your birthday.
I've saved up everything for you—every coin from the past two years.
I wanted you to go to college, or travel, or just live. Live in a way I never could.
If I die, don't be sad. I always loved you.
Even if I didn't say it enough.>
He pressed send.
Then paused.
His eyes welled. Not from the pain, not anymore—but from everything he'd carried for so long. Regret. Love. Memories.
He looked at the cracked screen again and tapped on the novel app. He scrolled down to the author's message section.
And there, he wrote something simple.
Rony:>
Sir... I loved your story.
And yes I would like to enjoy the world you created.
Thank you.
If I get to live again... I hope I can meet you.
Goodbye.>
With one last breath, he sent it.
Then the phone slipped from his hand, screen-down on the bloodstained road.
The phone slipped from Rony's fingers, clattering beside him with a soft thud. His eyes, dimming, drifted upward—toward the sky, where the fading sunlight stained the clouds a gentle rose-gold.
He wanted to live.
He didn't want this to be the end.
But as warmth left his body and the world grew quieter, he felt something stir within the blur.
A vision.
She was standing there—his sister.
But not how she was now. Not in her teenage school uniform, not with the worried frown she always wore when scolding him.
No, this was the little version of her—the girl from the past. The one who clung to him when she had nightmares. The one who laughed like the world was magic. The one who used to run barefoot in the summer rain, calling his name with joy.
She looked so real.
Her figure overlapped with the present, shimmering in the golden glow. Her wide eyes stared down at him, filled with tears.
"Rony...?" the illusion said.
His breath hitched.
He blinked slowly, letting the image settle into his mind. It didn't matter if it was a hallucination. He would believe in it. He had to.
He opened his dry lips and whispered, "You're here..."
She knelt beside him. Her soft hands brushed his face—hands that didn't tremble like the real ones might, hands that held no panic. Only love.
He smiled faintly.
"I sent you a message... don't forget to check it," he murmured.
The vision nodded. "I know."
"And don't cry. You were... always so strong."
His voice was failing him. He could hear it—the way it dragged at the edges, like it was being stolen from him piece by piece.
"You have to be okay... I saved everything for you," he whispered. "It's in the drawer... the bottom drawer... blue folder. Promise me you'll find it."
The illusion trembled, her tears falling like quiet rain. "You don't have to go... please."
But Rony knew.
The warmth was fading fast.
"I love you... always have," he said.
Then, from the real world—a scream. The sound of running footsteps.
"RONY!"
The voice was real.
Not imagined.
He turned his head with the last of his strength, and there she was—his actual sister, breathless, disheveled, her schoolbag half open, her shoes nearly slipping off as she collapsed next to him.
"Rony! No no no—please—Rony!!"
He looked at her.
And he smiled.
Rony blinked slowly. Everything around him was fading—the screaming, the panic, the sirens far off in the distance. But in front of him, her figure appeared. His vision blurred, but the sunlight framed her face like a memory.
"...Sister?" he whispered.
She knelt beside him, trembling, holding his bloodied face between her shaking hands. "I'm here, I'm right here, Rony. I'm here, okay? You're going to be okay. Just stay with me, please!"
He smiled, weak but real. That smile—soft, gentle, the same smile he wore as a child when she'd come home from school and brought him sweets. The same smile he wore whenever she'd ruffle his hair and scold him playfully.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she kept brushing his hair back, her hands warm and desperate. "Help is coming, they're coming, they'll save you—just don't close your eyes, please…"
But Rony could barely keep them open. The warmth was leaving him, slowly, like the sun dipping under the horizon.
"Sis…" His voice cracked. "In my drawer, the one under the bed… my savings… the card, the PIN is your birthday… It's yours now. Use it for your dreams… okay? Don't cry…"
"No!" she sobbed. "You'll tell me that later, when we're home, alright? Don't talk like this. Don't—"
"You're strong," he whispered. "You always were. Promise me you'll keep smiling. Even when it's hard. Even if I'm not there…"
She shook her head, leaning closer, her tears falling onto his face. "Don't say goodbye. Please don't leave me alone…"
"I'm not leaving," he breathed. "I'll always be with you. Just close your eyes… and I'll be there."
She clutched his hand to her chest. "I'm not ready… please, please don't go…"
His breathing slowed, but his smile remained. "You were the best part of my life… thank you… for everything."
She placed her forehead gently to his, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. "I love you, Rony… I love you so much…"
His eyes fluttered. His lips moved—one last smile, faint, yet peaceful. "I'm happy…" he whispered.
And then he was still.
In the middle of a street once filled with golden sunlight and the scent of spring, a girl cried, holding her brother's body like she was trying to hold the world together.