“The distinction between the past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”- Albert Einstein-

Rain trickled down in sporadic drops, painting streaks across the cracked windshield. Night blanketed the empty road, its silence disturbed only by the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. A car sat skewed at the edge, its front crushed into a tree, the bark wedged deep into the mangled hood. Smoke curled from the wreckage, dissolving into the cold, damp air.

Inside the vehicle, a male figure slumped in the driver’s seat, his breathing ragged. His hands, trembling and bloodied, reached for the passenger beside him. A woman with a lean frame lays motionless, her head resting against the seat, her face pale in the dim light, dark hair sticking to her skin in damp strands. The soft patter of rain against the roof was the only sound as time seemed to hang still, suspended in the aftermath of the crash.

His breath hitched as he cradled her limp body against his chest, the cold air biting at his skin. He closed his eyes briefly, swallowing the rising wave of panic. His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. He muttered:

“Not again.”

......

Several months earlier…..

“Scientists have detected strange readings from deep space, millions of light-years away, some speculate it may be caused by the collision of two black holes recently...”

News anchor’s voice can be heard coming from a flat screen television, filling the quiet living room. The sound from the television became vague, fading into the background. A male figure sat on the sofa in front of the television screen, his figure still and silent. It was early evening, the calm settling in with the dimming light outside.

“James,” a soft, playful voice called from behind.

He glanced over his shoulder to see a slim female figure his girlfriend Ashley standing just behind the sofa, her hair resting just above her shoulders, dark and slightly tousled. She wore a dress, a shade of deep blue that complimented her eyes, modest yet flattering. The fabric hugged her waist gently before flowing down, stopping just below her knees. It wasn’t too long, nor too short—just enough to move gracefully as she took a step forward, the hem swaying with her movements.

She smiled, eyes gleaming with anticipation, and struck a playful pose, arms spread wide. “How do I look?” She asks.

There was an eager glint in her eyes, the kind that suggested she cared about his response more than anything else in that moment.

“Beautiful,” James replied, his voice soft but genuine.

A satisfied smile spread across her face. She leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. James closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of her touch. But as she pulled away, his expression shifted—a flicker of something unspoken passed over his face, like a brief shadow of hesitation or doubt. His lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes remained distant, as if his mind was elsewhere.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late,” she said, her tone light and cheerful.

Breaking from his thoughts James reached for the remote and switched off the television.

The night was calm, the sky clear and moonless, stars faintly visible against the dark canvas above. A light breeze carried the cool air, making the evening feel fresh. The streetlights glowed with a soft amber hue, casting long shadows across the road as a few cars passed, their headlights cutting through the stillness of the night. The gentle hum of engines filled the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.

Inside one of the cars, James gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles pale in the dim light. His expression was tense, a frown settling deep across his face as his hand instinctively moved to his temple, massaging the side of his head.

Ashley glanced over, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice breaking the silence in the car.

James forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just a slight headache, nothing to worry about.”

Ashley sighed, her brows knitting in frustration. “You’ve had that same headache since last week.”

James shrugged, his hand dropping back to the wheel. “It’ll subside.”

Ashley’s irritation bubbled up. “If it’s getting worse, you should check it out.”

But James didn’t respond. Instead, the car fell back into silence, the faint sound of the road beneath them and the soft whoosh of passing cars filling the space between them. His eyes remained focused ahead, but his mind seemed far from the quiet road they travelled.

The headache hadn’t subsided. It lingered, pulsing lightly beneath his temples, as though something were pushing at the edges of his mind. He exhaled slowly, glancing at her as she stared out the window, her concern hanging in the air between them.

Colorful LED light flicker at a modest bar. The atmosphere wasn’t loud or rowdy, just a cozy spot where people gathered to unwind. Strings of decorative lights hung overhead, casting a soft amber hue across the tables and booths. The sound of clinking glasses and low conversation filled the space.

At one of the booths, James and his girlfriend sat with their friends, the energy light and relaxed. They had been there for a while now, nursing their drinks and enjoying each other’s company. James’ hands rested loosely around his glass, but his focus drifted now and then, the remnants of his headache still gnawing at him.

Keith, seated across from James, leaned forward, adjusting his glasses with one hand, his curly hair falling into his eyes. He turned to Gary, who sat with his arms resting on the table, his lean frame relaxed in his chair.

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“So, Gary,” Keith said, his voice friendly, “you’re heading to Rome next week, huh? That’s exciting.”

Gary, ever the easy-going one, nodded eagerly. “Yeah, it’s been a long time coming. Me and Rachel have been planning it for months. I can’t wait to get there.”

Keith chuckled, leaning in a little. “I’ve been there before, you know. It’s amazing, but…” He raised a finger with mock seriousness, as though giving sage advice, “be ready for the chaos.”

Gary raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Chaos?”

“Oh yeah, the traffic is insane. Don’t even try driving in the city, it’s madness,” Keith said, laughing. “And make sure you’ve got some comfortable shoes. The sights are incredible, but there’s a lot of walking. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Gary chuckled, shaking his head. “Duly noted. No driving and comfy shoes.”

Keith grinned, clinking his glass against Gary’s. “Other than that, you’ll love it. The food alone will blow your mind.”

James, quiet through the exchange, glanced between them, trying to stay present. Ashley leaned into him, offering him a smile, though she could sense he wasn’t quite himself tonight. She nudged him gently, and he smiled back, but that distant look still lingered in his eyes, the remnants of his headache gnawing at him.

As Keith and Gary’s conversation shifted to travel tips and sightseeing, Rita, seated beside Ashley, leaned in, her curiosity piqued.

“So, how’d the interview go?” Rita asked, taking a sip of her drink. Her dark hair framed her face, and her eyes sparkled with interest. “You said it was for a hotel chain, right?”

Ashley, fingers lightly drumming on the table, let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I still haven’t heard back yet, though.”

Rita raised her eyebrows sympathetically. “That sucks, but no news is good news, right?”

“I hope so,” Ashley replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. “Honestly, I just want to be done with my current job. It’s getting unbearable. The workload’s been insane lately, and don’t even get me started on the pay—less than before, even with the extra hours.”

Rita nodded knowingly. “Ugh, tell me about it. They’ll squeeze every last drop out of you if they can. But you’ll get this new gig, I’m sure of it. Then you can finally breathe.”

Ashley smiled, though it was tinged with weariness. “That’s the plan. I’m just ready for a fresh start, you know? Something where I don’t feel like I’m drowning all the time.”

“Totally,” Rita agreed, offering a reassuring smile. “And when you get that job, drinks are on you!”

The table erupted into a soft chorus of chuckles, and even James couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Deal,” Ashley said, her spirits lifting just a bit. “If I get the job, the first rounds on me.”

Keith, still laughing from his conversation with Gary, chimed in. “And then you can start planning that vacation to Rome too, huh?”

Ashley laughed softly. “Let’s get the job first, then we’ll talk Rome.”

Amidst the laughter and casual chatter, James found himself zoning out, his focus slipping from the conversations around him. His friends’ voices, once distinct, now felt distant, as if they were speaking from the other end of a tunnel. A sharp, stinging pain pulsed through his head, growing in intensity. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but the edges of his sight were starting to blur, shapes and lights blending together.

That sound—faint but persistent—buzzed in his ears like a high-pitched whine, gnawing at his concentration. James raised his hand to rub his temple, hoping the pressure would dull the ache, but it only seemed to get worse.

Across the table, Ashley’s smile faded. She noticed the way James winced, his fingers massaging his temple, his eyes unfocused.

“James?” she asked softly, concern clear in her voice. She leaned closer, her posture tense as she searched his face. “Are you alright?”

James forced a weak smile, blinking through the haze. “I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice strained. The effort of speaking seemed to only make the pain worse. His head throbbed, and for a second, it felt like the world was tilting ever so slightly.

Ashley wasn’t convinced. She studied him carefully, her brow furrowing deeper. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “James, you don’t look too fine. Maybe we should head back early?”

Her touch was comforting, but her words barely pierced the fog in his mind. James could see the worry in her eyes, but his own thoughts were too scattered, too overwhelmed by the pulsating pain. He took a breath, trying to steady himself, but his body felt heavier than it should. The noise in the bar—the chatter, the clinking glasses, even the soft background music—had grown too loud, too overwhelming.

“Maybe you’re right,” James finally admitted, his voice low, as if speaking louder would worsen the sharp ringing in his ears.

Ashley nodded, her concern deepening as she stood up. “I’ll get the check,” she said, already signaling the waiter as James leaned back in his seat, his hand still pressed to his forehead.

As Ashley signaled for the check, Keith glanced over, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Leaving so soon, James? You usually outlast all of us,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Ashley offered a polite smile, gently placing her hand on James’s shoulder. “James isn’t feeling great, actually. He’s been dealing with a headache for a few weeks now, so I think it’s best we call it a night,” she explained.

Rita, sitting across the table, gave a sympathetic nod. “Take care, okay? Don’t push yourself too hard,” she added, her voice sincere.

James forced a faint smile, his hand still resting on his temple. “Sorry, guys,” he said, his voice soft but genuine. “I’ll catch up with you all next time.”

Keith chuckled, giving him a friendly wave. “We’ll hold you to that.”

As the check arrived and Ashley handled the bill, James stood up slowly, still feeling the weight of his headache pressing down on him. With a few more exchanged goodbyes, the couple made their way out of the bar.

Driving home, James sat behind the wheel, his grip on the steering wheel tight, though he insisted, “It’s getting better. A little bit, at least.” His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story.

Ashley, sitting beside him, wasn’t convinced. “It might be a good idea to get that checked out tomorrow, just to be sure,” she replied, her concern evident.

Outside, the weather had shifted to a light drizzle, with faint raindrops tapping the windshield. The road ahead was mostly clear, with only a few cars scattered along the stretch. It was nearly 11:30 pm, and the quiet of the late night settled around them.

Suddenly, James winced, his headache flaring with unexpected intensity. It wasn’t just a dull throb anymore; it was sharp, like a finger pressing deep into the back of his skull. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to dim, fading at the edges. He blinked, struggling to focus, but then—

HEADLIGHTS!

Blindingly bright, coming straight at them. He heard Ashley scream, but it was distant, muffled, like she was shouting from underwater. And then—everything went dark.

......

James jolted awake, his body lurching into a sitting position as he gasped for breath. His heart pounded in his chest, racing with confusion and fear. Sweat clung to his skin, his breaths shallow and quick. He pressed his hands to his head, but the pounding headache was gone—just like that.

He breathed hard, his mind spinning. Was it all a dream? It couldn’t be. It had felt too real, too vivid—the blinding headlights, the crash, Ashley’s scream—it was all still fresh in his mind. But here he was, in his bed, unscathed.

His gaze shifted toward the digital clock on his nightstand.

11:30 pm.