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1: what does workholic means..?

Yo there! Now, where should I start my backstory? Well, it's nothing one can admire. I was a 25-year-old workaholic, ensnared in a life that resembled a relentless time loop. The same faces, the same routines—every day felt like an endless rerun of a tiresome show. At first, working overtime felt exhilarating. I thought I was being cool, conquering the corporate world with my dedication. But soon, the thrill turned into a relentless torment. My life became a suffocating hell.

And then, one fateful day, I was coming back from another exhausting shift, and just like that, I got hit. What do you think? Was it a truck? A car? A bike? No, I was freaking hit by a plane. Yes, you heard me right—a plane crashed right over me. And you know what the worst part was? I died alone.

The next moment, I woke up in a pitch-black room. There was no light, nothing. Just an overwhelming darkness that seemed to swallow me whole. I found myself clutching a photo and a stuffed toy in my hands. The photo frame held an image of two people—maybe my parents. My throat ached, my stomach roared with hunger, and my tears had long dried up. My vision blurred as if my very essence was fading away. Hours, maybe even days passed, and as it felt like I was dying again, a sudden flash came before my eyes…

The room was so silent it was almost maddening. The darkness around me was so thick it felt tangible, as if it could wrap around me and never let go. I tried to make sense of where I was, but my mind was too foggy. The photo in my hand was the only connection I had to any sense of reality. I brought it closer to my face, straining to see the faces of the two people in it. They seemed familiar, but I couldn't place them.

A wave of nausea hit me. My stomach was screaming in protest, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. My body felt weak, almost fragile, and every breath I took was a painful reminder of my current predicament. I tried to call out, but my voice was a mere whisper in the oppressive darkness. It felt like the room was absorbing all sound, leaving me in a void of silence.

Time lost its meaning. I couldn't tell if minutes, hours, or days were passing. The only thing that kept me grounded was the photo and the stuffed toy. They were my only anchors in this sea of nothingness. My mind wandered to my old life—the mundane routine, the endless work hours, and the lonely nights. It was a life I had hated, but now, in this black abyss, I would have given anything to go back to it.

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Just when I thought I couldn't bear it any longer, a flash of light pierced the darkness. It was blinding, and I had to shield my eyes. The light grew brighter and brighter until it consumed everything. I felt a strange sensation, like I was being pulled towards it. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished, leaving me in darkness once again. But something had changed. I felt a presence, a warmth that I hadn't felt before.

I was no longer alone. The room, though still dark, seemed to have a different quality to it. The oppressive silence was gone, replaced by a soft, almost imperceptible hum. I could feel a slight breeze against my skin, as if a window had been opened somewhere. I tried to stand, but my legs were too weak. I fell back down, clutching the photo and the toy like lifelines.

My eyes adjusted to the dim light that now filled the room. I could make out vague shapes and outlines. There was a door, slightly ajar, with light seeping through the cracks. I mustered all my strength and crawled towards it. Each movement was agony, but I pushed through the pain. I had to know what was on the other side.

As I reached the door, I hesitated. Fear gripped me. What if this was all a cruel trick? What if I opened the door only to find more darkness? But I couldn't stay here forever. I had to move forward. With a trembling hand, I pushed the door open.

The light was blinding, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open. I stepped through the doorway and found myself in a vast, open space. It was nothing like the dark room I had been in. This place was filled with light and color. The air was fresh, and I could hear the distant sound of water flowing.

In front of me stood a figure, bathed in a warm, golden light. I couldn't see their face, but their presence was comforting. They extended a hand towards me, and without thinking, I took it. The touch was gentle, and I felt a surge of warmth and energy flow through me.

"Welcome," the figure said, their voice soothing and calm. "You are safe now."

Tears filled my eyes as I realized that I was no longer alone. I had been given a second chance, a new beginning. The pain and loneliness of my past life were behind me. I didn't know what lay ahead, but for the first time in a long time, I felt hope.

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