The dream didn't end.
Just as I thought I had woken up, I found myself standing in a different place.
A classroom. My old classroom.
Desks were arranged in neat rows, the afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows. The sound of laughter and murmurs filled the room, but it was all blurred, like echoes from a distant past.
And there, standing in front of me, was her.
My classmate. My friend. The person I pushed away.
I remembered this moment too well—the beginning of the end of our friendship.
"Say it to my face, then!" she snapped, her voice sharp, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and pain.
I stood there, arms crossed, trying to act unbothered. My heart was pounding, but my pride wouldn't let me back down.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said coldly, my voice lacking the warmth it once held.
Her fists clenched. "You've been distant for weeks. You act like I don't exist. And now, you're pretending nothing is wrong?"
I didn't answer.
Because I knew she was right.
I had started ignoring her. Avoiding her. Not because I wanted to—but because I was afraid. Afraid that I was getting too close, that I would lose her one day like I had lost others.
So I had chosen to push her away first, before she could do it to me.
"If you don't care about this friendship anymore, just say it." Her voice cracked. "At least have the courage to be honest."
I should have.
But instead, I scoffed. "Why are you making this a big deal? It's not like we were that close anyway."
The words cut deeper than I expected—even for me.
Her face fell.
Silence.
Then, she took a step back, as if finally understanding something.
"I see," she whispered, her eyes losing their light.
Without another word, she turned and walked away.
And she never came back.
---
The classroom faded into darkness, and suddenly, I was alone again.
Or so I thought.
Then, the voice spoke.
"Why?"
My breath hitched. "Why what?"
"Why did you push her away?"
I swallowed hard. "Because… I didn't want to be hurt."
"So instead, you hurt her?"
I flinched. The voice was calm, but each word hit like a slap.
"Did she deserve that?"
I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "No."
"Then why didn't you stop yourself?"
I clenched my fists. My chest tightened. "I don't know..."
"You do know." The voice softened. "You were afraid of losing her. But in the end, you still lost her. Only this time, it was your fault."
I gasped, as if the words had physically pierced my chest.
The truth was unbearable.
"But tell me…" the voice continued. "If you could go back… would you?"
I squeezed my eyes shut, my mind screaming with regret.
Would I?
Would I have done things differently?
I didn't know.
All I knew was that I had ruined everything.
And now, it was too late.
---
I woke up again, my face damp with tears. My heart ached, my chest felt hollow.
I had lost her.
Just like I had lost everyone else.
The only thing left was the pain.
The pain I had caused myself.
The dream ended.
Darkness wrapped around me as I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. My breathing was uneven, my body felt heavy, and the bitter taste of regret lingered in my chest.
Outside, the world had turned quiet. The sky was now a deep shade of blue, speckled with distant stars. Night had come.
But inside me, a storm was raging.
I turned to my side, curling into myself. The weight of my past mistakes pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. Just when I thought I could escape the dream, a voice spoke again.
"You're still running, aren't you?"
I shut my eyes tightly. Not again...
"You keep blaming the past, but you never try to fix it."
"Why do you keep talking?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Because you need to hear it."
I pressed my hands against my ears, as if that would drown out the voice. But it was inside me—inside my mind, my heart, my very soul. There was no escaping it.
"Tell me," the voice continued, softer this time. "If you could go back and fix everything… would you?"
I hesitated.
Would I?
Would I even know how?
I stayed silent, refusing to answer.
The voice sighed. "You're afraid of the answer, aren't you?"
A lump formed in my throat.
"You've always been afraid," it whispered. "Afraid to lose. Afraid to love. Afraid to be vulnerable."
Tears welled up in my eyes.
"And now… you're afraid to admit that this pain? This loneliness? It was your choice."
"Shut up," I choked out, my hands gripping the bedsheet.
"Why? Because I'm right?"
A single tear slipped down my face.
"You did this to yourself," the voice said gently. "But that also means… only you can change it."
I shook my head, my breath trembling. "It's too late."
"Who told you that?"
I didn't respond.
The voice sighed again, softer this time. "You think you're alone. But you're not."
For a moment, I almost believed it.
But the only thing beside me was the silence of the night.