Nothing is Wrong
Part V — Reset
You wake up to birds.
The sound is loud. Cheerful. Too early.
Your room greets you like nothing has ever been wrong. Morning light slides in softly. Your head aches, but only a little.
You touch the scar.
It’s still there.
You don’t question it.
Your parents smile over breakfast. Everything behaves.
At school, time moves forward. Faces stay in place. You almost ask something important, but it slips away before you can catch it.
At home, the pill waits.
You stare at it longer than necessary.
Your head pulses, gentle and corrective.
You take it.
Relief follows. Warm. Familiar.
As sleep approaches, grief washes over you. Not sharp. Just heavy. Like you’ve lost something you can’t name.
The clock clicks.
5:54 a.m.
No.
You blink.
10:32 p.m.
Of course.
Still, as your eyes close, an image flashes behind your eyelids. A seam. A door pretending to be a wall.
Your scar tingles once.
Somewhere below the house, or deep inside your head, something shifts.
And the pain waits.
glitch.
—Written by Deerswanlie🦢