In the somber confines of a dilapidated room, trash lay strewn like forgotten memories. Opened ramen packs and empty soda bottles created a chaotic landscape, attracting the first whispers of a fruit fly congregation. Amidst this clutter, a solitary figure rested on a mattress, the soft glow of a laptop illuminating the darkness.
His eyes, filled with regret, scanned the room as he rose.
*Huff* *Huff*
Navigating through the debris, he made his way towards a closet, carefully sidestepping the obstacles in his path.
*Twang!*
A sudden sound pierced the silence as his foot brushed against an object. It was a guitar, its once pristine form now obscured by dust and neglect, a few strings missing. The man paused, his gaze lingering on the instrument with a mixture of reverence and sorrow. With delicate hands, he retrieved the guitar, placing it back on its stand and tidying the area.
*Huff* *Huff*
Resuming his task, he opened the closet door and retrieved something from within.
In his hand, he held a photograph of a remarkably handsome young man, the kind of beauty that could rival that of a celebrity. Nearby, a mirror reflected his own image back to him, and he couldn't help but compare the two. Wrinkles, a receding hairline, and weight gain; the harsh reality of his appearance starkly contrasted with the vibrant youth captured in the photo. With a heavy sigh, he returned to his bed.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Clutching the photo to his chest, he recalled the doctor's words, lying there staring at the ceiling, a mix of resignation and reluctance washing over him.
"Two months... That's all you have left. The cancer has progressed too far for viable treatment. We're deeply sorry."
Suddenly, a hoarse laugh erupted from him, mingled with tears.
"If there's a God, or reincarnation, just let me live once!"
With that, his breath faltered, and he surrendered to the inevitability of death.
"This is it... Peace at last..."
With a final glance around the room, he closed his eyes, a wry smile on his lips, as death claimed him.
Beside his laptop lay an open bottle of pills.
............................................
*BZZZZZZZZT* *BZZZZZZZZT* *BZZZZZZZZT*
An alarm pierced the silence, jolting the room.
The hand of a young man shot out to silence it, confusion etched on his face. He glanced at his phone, then at the mirror on his desk, eyes widening in shock.
He had striking almond-shaped eyes, framed by long, dark lashes that added allure. Beneath expressive brows, a hint of mischief gave his gaze a playful edge.
His nose was straight and well-defined, adding refinement to his appearance.
Full, plush lips with a natural pink hue complemented his flawless complexion. When he smiled, they formed a captivating crescent, revealing his straight, white teeth.
His jawline was sharp and defined, softened by a gentle smile that radiated warmth.
Medium-length, fluffy black hair framed his face.
With sudden realization, the young man slapped himself hard.
*SLAP*
"This can't be real, can it?" he muttered, grabbing his phone from the bed and checking the date.
"August 23, 2021," he read aloud, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"I've gone back 20 years..."