"I love moments like this…. Just you and me, enjoying each other's company and the beauty of our messy dorm around us."

I felt her squeezing my hand. "Me too. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now." 

 

Winter woke up violently from her dream. That wasn't a nightmare she was used to. 

 

No. 

 

That was opposite from her recurring torment of someone breaking her heart over and over again. It was a perfect dream. 

 

Why did she have to wake up to this nightmare? 

 

 

 

 

"We talked. She knows."

"Knows what?"

"That I am devoted to you." 

 

At the witching hour of 3 am, much like a recurring nightmare, Winter was abruptly roused from her sleep. Her heart pounded fiercely against the confines of her ribcage, a primal rhythm echoing the thunderous thoughts racing through her mind. 

 

Two days had elapsed since the chaotic confrontation between her and Karina. Equally, it had been forty-eight hours since Winter decided to relinquish her dependency on sleep aids, seeking a new path to restful nights.

 

The pills had always been a double-edged sword: lulling her into a slumber, yet stripping away the vividness of her dreams. But now, the absence of the pills unleashed a torrent of vivid imagery that danced across Winter's mind with unsettling clarity.

 

As Winter reached for a glass of water, her trembling fingers wrapping around its cool surface, she couldn't shake the memories of her most recent dream. It was a dream in which a voice, eerily familiar, spoke to her. 

 

"You're not my wife nor my girlfriend."

 

She couldn't quite place it, but something about the voice resonated deep within her soul. This voice had a timbre so distinct, so uncannily reminiscent of Karina's. 

 

The thought made Winter bitterly laugh. She finds it cruel that now, in the realm of her dreams, Karina was still the one she could ever dream of. 

 

 

 

 

I would do whatever you wanted

We don't have to leave the apartment

Met you at the right time

This is what it feels like

 

Winter felt the gentle tug of consciousness, a soft voice whispering her name and coaxing her out of the depths of sleep. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of dreams that clung to her. And there, standing by her side, was Giselle. 

 

'' Winter thought. She was supposed to be manning the register. 

 

Concern etched across her best friend's face as she had seen Winter's tears and distress, "Nightmares again?"

 

"No, it… it wasn't," Winter replied, her voice tinged with a hint of secrecy, a curtain drawn to shield her vulnerability. No, it wasn't nightmares that haunted her, but something altogether more bittersweet.

 

Her dream was hauntingly clear.

 

She found herself seated in a car beside a woman. The details remained tantalizingly out of reach. And yet as the dream unfolded, a sense of longing had coursed through her veins, leaving Winter with the unsettling feeling that she was forgetting something vital—something important.

 

Giselle's concern persisted, her eyes searching Winter's face for answers that the latter wasn't yet ready to give.

 

"You should leave the bookstore early today," Giselle urged, her voice filled with genuine care. "Take some time for yourself, find peace, and rest from your restless nights."

 

But Winter shook her head with a firm resolve. She couldn't afford to succumb to sleep, not when it unleashed the vivid dreams that threatened to unravel her fragile composure. 

 

"Gi," she replied, her voice resolute yet tinged with a hint of weariness. "I'm alright, don't worry I'll tell you when I need a day off okay?"

 

Winter turned back to her work, the scent of books and the soft rustle of pages provided a temporary respite, an anchor amidst the sea of her thoughts. 

 

The hours stretched on quickly. Half an hour before closing time, Winter was carefully sliding a book back into its rightful place on the bookshelf. As the weight of the book settled into its designated spot, a jolt surged through her.

 

A sudden and painful burst of memory that sent tremors through her entire being.

 

"This isn't from my playlist isn't it?"  

"From your playlist entitled I miss Yu? I assure you, it's not from there."

 

The book slipped from her grasp, tumbling from her fingers to the ground with a thud. Winter barely noticed the sound, her focus consumed by the tempest that raged within her. It felt as though an invisible hand had reached inside her chest, clenching and squeezing until she could barely breathe.

 

Winter stood frozen in the midst of the bookstore, her world spinning as a flood of memories surged through her mind with an overwhelming force. 

 

"You could never overstay your welcome with me."

 

The bookstore owner buckled beneath her as she crumpled to the floor. The impact reverberated through Winter's body, a jarring echo of the violent emotions that coursed through her veins. 

 

"I told you, we might kiss after a proper date."

 

Every muscle in Winter’s body tensed as if bracing itself against the onslaught of these unexpected recollections. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers curling and uncurling with desperate energy.

 

"I don't want to leave you, I don't know when I'll be back, and I already miss you so much."

 

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Each drop fell with the weight of a thousand shattered moments. The taste of bitterness coated her tongue, a bitter reminder of the lost years and faded connections that now haunted her.

 

The room around her seemed to fade into the periphery, its once-familiar bookstore blurring into insignificance as her mind became consumed by the recollections.

 

"I feel like a part of me is missing without you here."

 

In that fragile instant, Winter felt the full weight of her vulnerability, her physical form a mere vessel for the brutal memories that ravaged her soul. 

 

Winter cried. 

 

Her cry was raw and guttural, an anguished wail torn from the depths of her being. It wasn't the type of cry that escaped in controlled sobs or gentle weeping; it was a desperate release of pain that erupted from her core as if Winter's soul itself were shattering.

 

Minutes stretched into an eternity and Winter's cry began to transform, morphing into a keening sob. Her voice eventually grew hoarse, reduced to a mere whisper of sorrow, yet the tears continued to flow, cascading down her face in a ceaseless stream. 

 

Giselle found her passed out seconds after. 

 

 

 

 

Winter stirred, her eyelids heavy. She found herself lying in an unfamiliar place. The sterile smell of antiseptic lingered in the air. Confusion tugged at her mind.

 

Then it hit her.

 

In a hazy memory, Winter recalls how Giselle had found her passed out on the floor and had rushed her to the nearest medical institution her best friend could find—a small clinic.

 

"Doctor's diagnosis says you passed out due to extreme exhaustion," Giselle suddenly spoke from the door.

 

Winter slowly sat up, her body protesting with aches and fatigue. She caught sight of Giselle waiting by her side. Winter mustered a weak smile, grateful for her friend's presence throughout the ordeal.

 

Giselle insisted on driving Winter back to her apartment, a protective gesture to ensure her safety and well-being. The car ride was filled with a comforting silence, broken only by the rhythmic sound of tires against the asphalt.

 

As the cityscape passed by in a blur, Giselle voiced their concern once again. "You need to take time off work, Win," she urged, voice filled with a mixture of firmness and tenderness. "You can't keep pushing yourself like this."

 

Winter hesitated, fully aware of the truth in her friend's words. She knew she needed to rest, to allow her weary body and mind to recover. 

 

Finally, she nodded in agreement, Winter's voice quiet yet resolute. "Okay, I'll take a week off. I promise." 

 

But Win had one condition, one request born out of her own vulnerability. Her gaze met Giselle's, "But please, Gigi, let's keep this accident between us.”

 

Understanding flashed in Giselle's eyes before nodding.

 

Winter doesn't want to let Karina know. 

 

 

 

Winter sat cross-legged on her bed, a notebook propped open on her lap. Her apartment was bathed in a dim, moonlight that through the curtains. 

 

She promised Giselle that she would rest, but how could Winter rest when her mind was a whirlwind of unanswered questions and elusive memories? The weight of her experiences pressed upon her like an invisible burden, and she couldn't simply shut it out.

 

I keep shifting realities. I meet the same people but they're different in each life. I always meet Karina. I always love

 

Winter’s pen danced across the page, she had become obsessed with recording every detail as if the act of documentation could somehow grant her sanity. But the truth was, the more she wrote, the more the lines blurred between reality and hallucination.

 

Winter had denied it at first, dismissing her constant shifting from one reality to another as mere coincidence. But patterns emerged, patterns too persistent to ignore. 

 

However, in this particular reality, Winter lacked the memory of her previous journeys. It was as if her mind had been wiped clean, leaving her to piece together her existence through fractured dreams that haunted her every night.

 

Winter chewed on her bottom lip, lost in the maze of her thoughts. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with her fears and the weight of her own powerlessness. 

 

She couldn’t figure out her situation with her own thoughts so Winter decided to use her last resort.  In frustration, Winter stared at the computer screen.

 

Her fingers danced across the keyboard, her desperation manifesting in the rapid clicks and taps.

 

[ search: multiple realities ]

[ ERROR ]

 

“What the hell?” Winter says in confusion. She tries searching again.

 

[ search: reality travel ]

[ ERROR ]

 

Again…

 

[ search: multiverse ]

[ ERROR ]

 

And again…

 

[ search: alternate universe ]

[ loading… ]

[ ERROR ]

 

The screen froze for a moment, and then a dark shade of blue engulfed the monitor. The message in the center of the screen taunted her, its words etched in an ominous warning: 

 

[ WARNING: Your Searches is Banned by the Oracle. ]

 

"No, no, no!" Win muttered, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. How could her search for truth be flagged as forbidden? She leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling with possibilities. 

 

She paused. Suddenly, Winter remembered her talk with Giselle when she first came to this reality. This reality is governed by religion, by a Messiah called Oracle. As far as Winter comprehends, this Oracle forbids the circulation of religious literature and only wants the current generation to follow its dogma. 

 

Her searches though are not connected to any religions. Was it a glitch? Or was there something more sinister at play? 

 

 

 

 

Winter had spent an entire week on a relentless quest for knowledge, scouring the depths of the internet and whatever literature she could find. But the Oracle's grip on information remained unyielding, its barriers impenetrable. It felt as though the world conspired against her, withholding the answers she so desperately sought.

 

And so, she had returned to the familiar rhythm of her job at the bookstore, seeking solace in the routine.

 

It was no use though.

 

Karina's absence had left an indelible mark on the small, familiar corners of the bookstore. 

 

The bustling energy that had once filled the space was replaced with an eerie stillness. Even Ningning seemed to have disappeared, leaving behind an empty void that echoed through the shelves of books.

 

Giselle noticed the change and couldn't help but express concern. "Is everything alright?" She asked, her voice laced with worry. "I've noticed you've been extra grumpy lately."

 

Winter forced a smile, her heart aching with a hidden sorrow. "Everything's fine, Gi," she replied, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within. "How are things going with Ningning anyway?" Winter adds, trying to change the topic. 

 

Hoping that the conversion would somehow lead to Karina.

 

Giselle's face brightened at the mention of her soulmate, her eyes lighting up with a fondness that couldn't be disguised. "Oh, it's been amazing," she replied, a touch of excitement evident in their voice. "Ningning is just...incredible. We've been spending a lot of time together, getting to know each other on a deeper level. I've never felt this way before, Win."

 

Winter couldn't help but smile, genuinely happy for her friend. Giselle deserved love and happiness, and it seemed like they had found it in Ningning. 

 

As the conversation continued, Win found herself yearning for something more, a connection to her own history that felt just out of reach. She knew that if she brought up Ningning, her best friend might also mention Karina.

 

Summoning her courage, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Speaking of relationships," Winter began, her voice hesitant but determined. "How’s the novel she’s been working with… I mean, It's been a while, but..." Her words trailed off, the unspoken question lingering between them.

 

Giselle's expression softened, her eyes meeting Winter’s with understanding. She took a deep breath before responding, their voice filled with empathy. "You know, it's strange. Ningning keeps shushing me whenever I ask her about the novel.”

 

“What about—”

 

“Karina? I saw her once or twice last week but that’s it. We seldom converse with each other,” Giselle noticed the worried expression on her friend’s face, “I think she’s just really focusing on her research with Ningning.”

 

"Uhm.." Winter began, her voice was soft and hesitant. "I've been wondering... has she ever mentioned me? Has she asked about me?"

 

"Win, I won't lie to you. Karina hasn't mentioned you directly," her friend said answered sternly.

 

Winter’s heart sank at Giselle’s words, her embarrassment and vulnerability threatening to consume her. 

 

"But that doesn't mean she hasn't thought about you,” Giselle added. “People have different ways of dealing with things, and sometimes silence can be a shield they use to protect themselves."

 

The other girl could only nod in agreement. 

 

Winter understood using silence as a shield.

 

She’s very familiar with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On a quiet Wednesday night, as Winter walked down the dimly lit streets, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. Her heart sank as she noticed a small black cat huddled near a dumpster, its eyes reflecting a glimmer of sadness and hunger. 

 

"Are you hungry?" She asked and the cat could only respond with a weak meow.

 

Hurrying to the nearest store, Winter swiftly purchased a small bag of cat dry and wet food, her mind racing with thoughts of how to provide comfort to the hungry creature. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving it out there in the cold. 

 

With a renewed sense of purpose, she hurried back to where she had seen the cat, hoping to offer some solace. As she turned the corner, clutching the bag of food tightly, Winter's heart skipped a beat. 

 

There, kneeling on the sidewalk, was Karina. 

 

At that moment, it felt as if time stood still. Their eyes met, and a mix of surprise, longing, and uncertainty flashed between them.

 

Karina looked at her with a wild-eyed gaze.

 

Winter took a step closer, her voice barely a whisper. "You found him," she said.

 

Karina nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I couldn't leave him out here," she replied, voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

 

Next to her, nestled in a makeshift box lined with blankets, was the black cat. It gazed up at Winter with wide, questioning eyes, as if it, too, sensed the profound connection between the two.

 

Karina's eyes flickered towards the bag clutched tightly in Winter's hand, curiosity etching lines on her forehead. The faint scent of cat food wafted through the air, catching the fel