A Second Sunrise"
---
Gasp!
I wake up with a sudden jerk, my body flooded with adrenaline as if I've been holding my breath for a lifetime. My lungs burn as I inhale deeply, only to feel like I'm choking on the air. Cold sweat beads on my forehead. My hands tremble as I grip the bed sheets, feeling the rough fabric against my palms.
The room spins, disorienting and foreign.
Where am I?
I blink rapidly. It's too bright. Too clean. Too… normal.
I lie there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. Everything feels too real. The weight of my body in the bed. The faint hum of the ceiling fan above me. The distant sounds of life outside my window.
My mind scrambles to piece together the events leading up to this moment.
The crash.
The impact.
Rohit's face. That one final, regret-filled gaze. The final, crushing blow.
I was dead.
No. I can't be.
My head pounds as I force myself to sit up.
The world around me tilts and wavers for a moment as if I've crossed some invisible boundary between life and death.
I feel my chest. No bruises. No cuts. No blood.
My heart is still pounding, but it's strong. Steady.
I close my eyes, feeling an unfamiliar weight pressing down on me. A sense of responsibility. A sense of guilt.
What the hell is going on?
I stand up shakily, my legs weak and unsteady. The floor beneath my feet is cold, solid. Real.
I move toward the mirror on the wall, my reflection distorted by the dim lighting. My hand touches the glass as I step closer.
And then I freeze.
The face staring back at me—
My face.
But younger.
So much younger.
I'm nineteen again. Fresh-faced, unscarred, filled with the same arrogance I carried around back then. But the eyes staring back at me are different. They're filled with confusion. Dread.
I stare at my reflection for a long time, struggling to comprehend what's happening. Was this a dream? Some cruel trick?
I reach for the side of the sink, steadying myself, my heart racing.
This can't be real. This can't be happening.
A sharp, clear memory floods my mind, sharp and unforgiving.
"Do you truly regret your sins?"
I stagger back, my knees nearly buckling beneath me.
No. This isn't a dream. I'm back.
Back in the life I once lived.
Back to the college years. Back to the mistakes I made.
I run my fingers through my hair, my scalp tingling with panic.
What have I done?
My heart aches as I remember everything. All the people I hurt. All the lies I told. All the manipulation. The cruelty. The power I wielded like it was my right.
And then I think of him.
Rohit.
The boy I destroyed with my petty bullying. The one who never stood a chance against me. The one I crushed, pushed into the shadows, all because he was weaker than me.
I remember the way he looked at me that day. The hatred in his eyes. The feeling of his spirit breaking.
I didn't even care.
I didn't care until it was too late.
"Do you truly regret your sins?"
The voice echoes in my mind, sharp and accusing.
I do.
I shut my eyes, my chest tight with regret.
This is my second chance. I've been sent back to undo the damage I caused. But how do I even begin to make things right? Where do I start when the past is still so raw, still so close?
The sound of a door opening interrupts my thoughts.
"Ravi! Don't tell me you're still sleeping, you lazy boy!"
My mother's voice rings out through the house, harsh and familiar.
"You'll be late for class! Get up already! I'm not writing you another fake sick note!"
I flinch, the sound of her voice almost knocking the wind out of me.
I'd almost forgotten. Almost forgotten what it was like to hear her voice without the weight of guilt suffocating me.
I swallow hard, shaking myself out of my daze.
I'm not dead. I'm not dead.
But I feel like I am. Like something inside me died in that accident. Something I can never get back.
I pull myself up off the bed, my legs unsteady as I step toward the door.
The house looks the same. The old wooden furniture. The faded curtains. The kitchen smells like parathas sizzling in ghee. It's all so familiar, but also distant, as if I'm standing in a dream.
I step out into the hallway, feeling my heart pound with every step. The world feels too loud, too real.
As I approach the kitchen, I hear her humming softly, the same tune she always hums when she's cooking. The sound wraps around me, pulling me back into the past, back into the life I once took for granted.
But when I step into the kitchen, it hits me. Harder than I expected.
She's still here. She's still alive.
My mother stands at the stove, flipping parathas, her hair tied in a messy bun, the same apron hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her face is older now, lines of age and worry etched into her skin, but she's still the same. Still the woman who raised me, despite my flaws.
I stand there for a moment, not knowing what to say, how to speak.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she says, not even looking up from the stove.
"You're still in bed? What's wrong with you?"
Her words are harsh, but there's a soft warmth in her tone. Familiar. Comfortable.
It should make me feel better, but it only tightens the knot in my chest.
I feel like I'm suffocating.
"Mom…" I begin, my voice shaky.
I clear my throat, trying to gather myself.
"I'm not sick. I'm just… thinking."
She looks up at me, her brow furrowing. She always did that when something was bothering me. "Thinking? You? About what?"
I smile weakly, my lips barely moving.
"About... my future."
She eyes me suspiciously, a small frown forming on her face.
"Don't get too lost in that thinking, alright? You need to focus on your exams. Life's not going to wait for you."
I nod, though my mind is a whirlwind. My future.
I have a future now.
But does it even matter?
I turn away from her, feeling the weight of her gaze on my back.
Rohit is out there. Somewhere in this world. And I need to find him.
I need to fix what I broke.
I need to fix everything.
---
End of Chapter 1