It was the middle of the night when I was jolted awake by the sound of Sarah's urgent voice cutting through the quiet.

"Dear, wake up! Wake up!"

Her tone was thick with worry, and it instantly sent a shiver down my spine.

"What happened?" I asked, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I focused on her anxious face.

"It's Chloe! Her body temperature is too high!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with fear.

"What?!" I shot up, my heart pounding as I turned to look at Chloe.

She lay between us, her small body writhing slightly, her breaths coming in shallow, labored gasps.

Her face was flushed, an alarming red, and beads of sweat clung to her skin.

It was as if she had been pulled straight out of an oven.

I reached out and touched her forehead, and my stomach dropped.

Her skin was burning hot, far too hot for any normal fever.

"It seems she has a fever," I said, my voice barely steady as panic gnawed at the edges of my composure.

Sarah's eyes were wide, filled with terror. "What should we do?"

"Calm down, dear," I said, trying to steady both of us.

"First, we need to get her to the hospital. You carry Chloe, and I'll get the car ready."

She nodded, though her hands trembled as she gently scooped Chloe into her arms.

I could see the fear etched in every line of her face, but there was no time to dwell on it.

We had to move fast.

I jumped out of bed, grabbing the car keys from the nightstand.

The adrenaline was pumping through me, pushing back the fog of sleep and sharpening my focus.

As I ran to the door, I noticed that the rain had finally stopped, leaving the night eerily silent.

The calm after the storm felt almost mocking as if the world outside didn’t realize the chaos unfolding in our home.

I sprinted towards the garage, my bare feet slapping against the cold, damp ground.

My hands fumbled with the keys for a moment before I managed to unlock the car.

The engine roared to life, a comforting sound in the midst of the panic.

I quickly reversed out of the garage, the tires crunching on the wet gravel.

I could see Sarah through the rearview mirror, standing at the door with Chloe cradled in her arms, her face pale but determined.

"Come on, Sarah, hurry!" I called out, though my voice cracked with the urgency I was trying so hard to control.

She rushed forward, carefully getting into the back seat with Chloe still nestled against her chest.

I glanced back at them, my heart breaking at the sight of my little girl’s flushed face and shallow breaths.

"Hold on, Chloe. We’re getting you help," I whispered, more to myself than to her, as I slammed the car into gear and sped off towards the hospital.

The tires squealed as we rounded the corner, the wet roads glistening under the dim streetlights.

Every second felt like an eternity, the silence in the car filled with the sound of Chloe’s labored breathing and the pounding of my heart.

I pushed the accelerator down, weaving through the deserted streets, my mind racing as I prayed for time to move faster.

I sped down the road, the car hurtling through the night at a breakneck pace.

The tires hissed against the slick asphalt, the rain from earlier still lingering on the surface.

My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, my heart hammering in my chest as I pushed the car faster, desperate to reach the hospital in time.

But I had forgotten something crucial, something that now clawed at the edges of my mind with a sickening dread.

The road—it was still treacherous from the downpour.

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And I was driving far too fast, especially around the curves that twisted through the city.

As we approached one of those sharp turns, the tires suddenly lost their grip on the slick surface.

For a split second, time seemed to slow down.

The car skidded, the world outside spinning in a blur of lights and shadows.

I felt the sickening lurch in my stomach as the car veered out of control, the steering wheel useless in my hands.

"Sarah! Chloe!" I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the screeching of metal and the shattering of glass.

The car spun wildly across the road before slamming into a nearby building with a deafening crash.

The impact was brutal, the force of it throwing us around inside like rag dolls.

We hadn't been prepared.

We hadn’t even put on our seatbelts in our frantic rush to save Chloe.

I felt my body slam against the dashboard, my head snapping forward violently.

The world went white for a moment, pain exploding in my skull.

And then everything started to fade—the sounds, the pain, the very air around me.

When I finally opened my eyes, everything was still.

Too still.

The smell of gasoline and smoke filled the air, mingling with the metallic scent of blood.

I looked around, my vision blurred and hazy.

Sarah lay slumped against the window, motionless.

Chloe… My heart shattered as I saw her limp form beside her mother, her small body still as stone.

“No… no, not again,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper, trembling with horror.

But it was too late.

The nightmare had repeated itself.

I had failed again.

I had lost them all over again.

And this time, it was my fault.

I cursed myself, tears mingling with the blood on my face as I realized the cruel twist of fate.

I had been given one more day—just one more day to protect them—and I had failed.

I was pathetic.

Utterly, completely pathetic.

My breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of my failure crushing me from within.

I had tried so hard, fought against destiny with every ounce of strength I had left, but it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

The darkness began to creep in at the edges of my vision, the pain in my body numbing as coldness seeped into my bones.

My eyelids grew heavy, and despite the overwhelming urge to fight it, I couldn’t hold on any longer.

As the world faded to black, I was consumed by the crushing weight of my defeat.

I had lost them, and this time there was no coming back.

The darkness swallowed me whole, and I sank into it, my heart heavy with despair.

I had failed them. Again.

And then, as if on cue, the darkness lifted, giving way to the familiar warmth of morning light.

The same chirping of birds filtered into my consciousness, and beneath it, the sweet, melodic voice of my wife—Sarah’s voice.

"Wake up, dear! Wake up!"

The words sliced through the haze in my mind, pulling me from the abyss.

Was this an illusion? A cruel trick of the mind?

I had just died—again—and yet here I was, waking up to the sound of her voice, the warmth of our home, the comfort of our bed.

"Did you forget you promised to teach me how to drive today?" she continued, her tone playful, yet with that familiar firmness.

Those words jolted me awake, my heart pounding in my chest as my eyes flew open.

I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the scene before me.

Sarah stood by the bed, dressed in the same outfit she’d worn that day—that day, the one that ended in tragedy.

Beside her, Chloe bounced on her toes, her face lit up with uncontainable excitement.

What the hell is happening?

I stared at them, my mind reeling.

It was all the same—the clothes, the smiles, the anticipation in their eyes.

I had just died, hadn’t I?

I had felt the crash, the life drain out of me as I cursed myself for failing them once again.

And yet, here they were, alive, standing in front of me as if nothing had happened.

It wasn’t just déjà vu—it was something deeper, something more unsettling.

I had died and come back to them, not once, but twice.

Each time, I returned to the same moment, the same morning, like some cruel loop that I couldn’t escape.

Was this reality, or had I been trapped in an illusion all along?

It felt as though someone, or something, was playing a sick joke on me, forcing me to relive my worst fears over and over again.

Sarah must have noticed the panic on my face, the way my breath had quickened, my hands trembling slightly as I clutched my head.

Her smile faltered, concern creasing her brow.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

But I couldn’t answer her.

I didn’t know what to say, or even how to begin to explain the turmoil that had taken root inside me.

I was confused beyond belief, my mind spinning with the impossibility of it all.

How could this be real? How could I be here, again, after everything that had happened?

I grabbed my head, the weight of it all pressing down on me, threatening to crush me.

It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.

The events of the past day—or days, I couldn’t even tell anymore—swirled in my mind like a relentless storm, refusing to settle.

I was trapped in some twisted nightmare, doomed to repeat my failures, to lose them over and over again.

And yet, here they were, alive, vibrant, looking at me with love and expectation, completely unaware of the horror I had just lived through—twice.

But was this really a nightmare, or was it a second chance?

A third, even? I couldn’t tell.

All I knew was that I couldn’t bear to lose them again.

I couldn’t bear the thought of another day ending in tragedy, of seeing their lifeless bodies because I failed to protect them.

I looked back at my wife and daughter, their faces painted with worry.

"Dear, what happened?" Sarah asked, her voice soft, yet tinged with concern.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Chloe's small voice echoed her mother's, filled with innocent worry.

I tried to smile, to reassure them, but my gaze kept shifting, my mind racing.

I felt like I was being watched, something sinister lurking just beyond my sight.

And then, as my eyes darted around the room, I saw it—a shadowy figure standing just behind them.

My heart stopped.

A chill ran down my spine as I froze, my breath caught in my throat.

The figure was vague, almost formless, but it was there, dark and ominous, radiating a menacing energy that made my skin crawl.

I stood up abruptly, my body stiff with fear, and just as quickly as it appeared, the figure vanished, swallowed by the dim light of the room.

"What happened, dear?" Sarah asked again, her voice pulling me back, but I could barely hear her over the pounding of my heart.

"There… there was someone here!" I blurted out, my voice shaking.

Sarah’s brows knitted in confusion as she glanced around the room.

"But there’s no one here, dear," she said, her tone trying to soothe, but it only made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"No, I saw him!" I insisted, my voice rising in panic.

"He was right there!"

Sarah tried to remain calm, her hand gently resting on my arm.

"Okay, dear. What did he look like?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but the words got caught in my throat.

My mind was a jumbled mess, images slipping away like sand through my fingers.

I couldn’t recall any details—just a vague, shapeless darkness.

The more I tried to focus, the more it eluded me, as if the memory was being erased in real-time.

"He… he…" I stammered, "I don’t remember. I don’t remember what he looked like."

Sarah’s face softened with concern as she squeezed my arm.

"It’s okay, dear. You’ve been through a lot. Maybe you’re just tired," she suggested gently, though I could see the worry etched in her eyes.

"How about we stay at home today? We can spend some time together as a family, just relax. Wouldn’t that be nice?"

I nodded weakly, still feeling the lingering presence of whatever—or whoever—I had seen.

I didn’t have the strength to argue, didn’t have the will to insist that something was wrong.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe it was just the exhaustion, the stress of these repeated days, these endless cycles of life and death.

But deep down, a gnawing fear clung to me, whispering that this was far from over.

"Good," Sarah said with a small, relieved smile.

"Freshen up and come to the kitchen. Chloe and I will start breakfast." She took Chloe’s hand, and they both turned to leave the room.

I watched them go, my chest tight with an unspoken dread.

As they disappeared down the hallway, I stood there, rooted to the spot, trying desperately to recall that figure—anything about it.

But all I could grasp was a fleeting impression, a haunting memory of a menacing smile that seemed to mock me.

It was as though the figure was playing with me, teasing me with its presence and then slipping away, leaving nothing but fear and confusion in its wake.

The smile lingered in my mind, a twisted, sinister curve that sent a shiver through my entire body.

I was left alone in the room, silence pressing in around me.

Something was wrong, deeply wrong, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this day, this reality, was far from safe.

But what could I do?

I was trapped in this cycle, forced to relive the same day over and over, each time hoping to protect my family but failing at every turn.

And now, with that shadow looming in my mind, the stakes felt even higher.

I didn’t know who—or what—was behind this, but I had to find a way to end it.

I had to protect Sarah and Chloe, no matter what it took.

With a deep breath, I steeled myself and moved towards the bathroom, the echo of that sinister smile still burning in the back of my mind.

Today was going to be different. It had to be.