I was still frozen in place, my mouth agape as I tried to comprehend what was happening in front of me. Confusion engulfed my thoughts, leaving me paralyzed, trying to process the situation. Amid the chaos in my mind, the only phrase that kept echoing was, "What the hell is this?" As I attempted to grasp my current reality, memories from the past came flooding back, dragging me five years into the past...

Five years ago, my parents died in an accident. We were driving home after a vacation, tired but content. The road that night was eerily quiet, with only the streetlights accompanying our journey. My dad was driving, my mom sat beside him, and I was in the back seat. I leaned my head against the left window, watching the trees blur past us.

We were all pretty exhausted, having had too much fun on our vacation. My mom had already fallen asleep, and my dad kept humming along the drive, probably to keep himself awake. Then, suddenly, a loud crash shattered the silence of the night. In a split second, our car plummeted off the road into a ravine. It happened so fast, I couldn't brace myself to protect my head and body.

I don’t know how it happened, but I came to my senses when I felt the heat of a fire licking at my legs. I tried to get out, but I didn’t have the strength to stand. I could only crawl—no, more like drag myself in that state. With all the energy I had left, I tried to open the door in front of me. I wasn’t strong enough to budge it, so I leaned my body against it, using my weight to force it open. There was a glimmer of hope as the door cracked open slightly. After a few more desperate pushes, the door finally swung open, and I managed to crawl out of the car, still dragging myself along.

Relief washed over me as I finally escaped the car. I crawled away, putting some distance between myself and the wreck. When I looked back, all I saw was the car flipped over and flames raging from the front.

"Thank God, I made it out," I said, my breath still short. My chest pounded with a mix of relief and deep-seated fear.

I looked around, trying to find my parents, but there was no one there. It was just me and the burning car, the surrounding darkness only punctuated by a few thick trees. Before I could finish scanning the area, a loud explosion pierced my ears, snapping me out of my nightmare.

I was still lying down, propped up on one elbow, my mind a mess. I couldn’t move; my brain couldn’t process anything. Then a second explosion followed, sending debris—rocks, car fragments, whatever—flying in all directions. Something struck my head.

"Aarghh,"

I reflexively covered my face with my hands, pain radiating from where I was hit. When I opened my eyes, I saw a severed hand. I knew it was a hand because it had struck me and was now lying right in front of me. As I looked closer, I noticed a ring on its ring finger. The ring was all too familiar—I knew exactly whose ring it was. Yes, it was my mom’s. I was in shock and passed out.

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That reverie slowly faded, bringing me back to the quiet library. I stood there, stunned, trying to keep my stomach from churning. Overwhelmed by the memories that had just replayed in my mind, I ended up vomiting, leaving the floor littered with remnants of last night’s meal.

I quickly made my way to the bathroom, splashing water on my face and mouth. Amid the splashes, another memory of my mom surfaced. "Sweetheart, I think you’re old enough now. Once we get home, I have something to tell you," she had said, gently patting my head.

Was that room what she meant? Now, I can’t find out what she wanted to say. It’s all too late. I assume that room was what she intended to tell me about. Feeling a little better, I headed back to the room in the library, mustering up my courage.

"Maybe there’s something in that room I’m supposed to know," I muttered, wiping the water from my face.

Back in the library room, I stood there for a moment, slapping my cheeks with both hands as a way to psych myself up. I started to enter slowly, cautiously. It was just an empty room with a black box sitting on a half-pillar.

Right away, I could tell that the box was sealed with black tape, preventing any peeking inside.

"What kind of weird box is this? Is a clown going to pop out when I open it?" I joked, trying to mask my fear.

I kept examining the box, circling it, trying a few ways to open it. It seemed like the box was embedded in the half-pillar, making it difficult to lift. I thought it would be an easy task.

I tried peeling off the tape, but there was more tape underneath, so I felt like a fool having to peel it layer by layer. I decided to grab a hammer I kept in the storage room, thinking I’d break the box open by force. Even if I destroyed the box and whatever was inside, I didn’t care, as long as it opened.

With the hammer in hand, I started banging on the box. To my surprise, it was made of rather thick glass. But with this hammer, I could definitely crack it open.

"1-0, boys. I win," I kept joking to myself like this several times.

The box was finally open. Inside, something was wrapped in a red cloth. It briefly crossed my mind that whoever put something here didn’t want anyone to know what it was.

I started guessing what might be wrapped in the red cloth. Could it be a diary filled with the author’s romantic escapades, or maybe a book filled with pictures of beautiful women barely covered by small bits of fabric?

When I finally unwrapped it, it was an old, worn-out book with a leather cover, equally worn. The distinctive smell of a very old book wafted out. On the cover, something was written, but it wasn’t complete. The writing had faded, as if it had been exposed to water, leaving only the word “reincarnation” at the beginning.

I took the book to my room along with some snacks I had bought earlier that morning. My now-empty stomach told me it was a good idea to study the book while munching on some snacks in my room. "Maybe this will be a reference for my writing," I nearly forgot the original reason I had come to the library.

As I opened the first page and started reading, a lot of it was hard to understand. The beginning just talked about reincarnation in general, like how there’s a chance at a second life after death for those with pure souls. Page after page, it felt like nothing more than a fairy tale. I mean, who really knows what happens after death? This book seemed like nonsense, and I was starting to get bored and lose interest before reaching the middle pages.

I hadn’t realized how quickly time had passed. The sun was already setting, and the orange glow from my bedroom window had given way to darkness, signaling that night had arrived. I felt utterly exhausted from the events of the day. Besides, I had a draft to finish; maybe I’d stay up late to work on it. After that, I decided to rest. Maybe tomorrow I’d start diving into the details of the book.