The next morning dawned, and I was still in the same position as the night before. Slumped onto my couch, exhaustion staining my face. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, making me feel jittery and restless. Every part of my body screamed for sleep, but my mind was too wired to allow it. My eyes felt like they were being held open by sheer force as they threatened to shut at any given moment. It was as if I was in a battle with my body, and I wasn’t sure who would win

At some point in the night, sleep had briefly won, but it didn't stay long as a vicious nightmare jolted me awake. In it, I was in a dark, suffocating place, unable to move, and a voice echoed around me, whispering, “It’s too late.” My heart pounded as I snapped out of the dream, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The shadows in the room seemed to close in around me, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure where the nightmare ended and reality began. I sat up, trying to shake the lingering fear, but the voice still echoed in my mind, chilling me to the core. Even after I was fully awake, I couldn’t escape the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the warning in the dream was more than just a figment of my imagination.

With sleep eluding me for the rest of the night, I found myself staring out the window, watching in awe as the sun slowly began its ascent. A shimmering gradient of oranges and pinks painted the sky, the moon gradually sinking below the horizon to make way for the dawn of a new day. This was usually my favorite time—those rare, tranquil moments where the world felt still and quiet. But today, it felt different. Today, something had shifted. For the first time in five long years, I had broken my routine, and that small fracture in my carefully constructed life left me feeling both untethered and strangely liberated.

Unable to tear myself away from the fish, I skipped my usual morning routine—no cup of coffee, no slipping into my precisely placed slippers. My mind was still tangled in the events of the night before, so much so that if I hadn’t been staring out the window, I might not have even noticed the new day dawning. The only thing cutting through the chaos in my head was the gentle splashing of the fish as they explored their new environment, a soft reminder that life was still moving forward, even if I felt stuck in place.

Splish splash, splish splash...

Were those splashes of contentment or discomfort? I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d done good, or if I’d inevitably made things worse. The guilt of “what if” wreaked havoc on my brain. My mind raced, trying to rationalize what was happening. Was I really in control, or was something else guiding my actions? Was I just a helpless observer, or the mastermind behind some grand plan I couldn’t comprehend? The questions flooded my mind like a raging river, threatening to pull me under.

A particularly forceful splash from one of the fish jolted me back to reality. Gasping for air, I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time.

Ah yes, I’m not alone anymore, I thought.

The realization gave me a sense of purpose, but it also terrified me completely. I tried not to dwell on the thought as I hoisted myself up to see what all the commotion was about. I wasn’t sure what I expected when I looked into the bucket, but I certainly wasn’t prepared to be overcome with such a profound sensation: pure adoration.

Spellbound, I gazed into the bucket. The koi fish glimmered under the morning sun, their scales blazing with fiery colors that flickered like flames. As I watched them glide and weave through the water, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. It was as if they were performing a delicate dance, their movements so perfectly synchronized that it was almost hypnotic. I was entranced, lost in the beauty of the moment.

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Just when I thought this was the most remarkable thing I’d ever seen, one of the koi abruptly stopped swimming and locked eyes with me. A jolt of surprise shot through me as the fish’s unblinking stare seemed to pierce straight into my soul. It was as if the koi was peering into the depths of my being, with an intensity that left me feeling exposed and vulnerable.

The most peculiar thing was that it didn’t look at me with interspecies curiosity; it looked at me like it knew me. There was a strange sense of familiarity in those eyes, like I had seen them before, but couldn’t quite place where.

They were black as the darkest night, conveying a depth of emotion that left me utterly mystified. It was as though the creature was trying to communicate with me, to share a secret that only I could understand.

I furrowed my brows, struggling to make sense of what was happening. Suddenly, another fish swam up and struck it with its tail, bringing the moment to an abrupt end. The interaction was odd—it didn’t seem like the fish was trying to harm its companion, but rather, to silence it.

That’s ridiculous, I thought to myself.

After all, they were just fish. To think they were capable of hiding some elaborate secret was ludicrous… right? I shrugged it off as a delusion brought on by my lack of sleep and decided to try and proceed with my day as normal.

This proved to be a more daunting task than I’d expected, as I had no idea how to exist outside of my daily routine. Should I go into my bedroom and pretend to have just woken up so I could reenact my day like some sort of puppet? No, that felt too forced. So if I couldn’t complete a routine that I had pretty much centered my whole identity around, what could I do? And more importantly, who was I without it?

While I didn’t have answers to these questions, I did know one thing: I could damn sure go for a cup of coffee. My feet felt heavy as I trudged to the kitchen. Even reaching for my coffee cup felt strange now, despite it being a daily occurrence. It made me uncomfortable, but there was a smaller part of me that found it slightly exhilarating.

This was the closest I’d come to being a normal person in so long. Normal people didn’t map out their days to ensure they were the same every single day. They lived in the moment. I let out a sigh of contentment as I fantasized about living a normal life.

Waking up to a husband who kissed me good morning before we went to work, maybe even having a baby someday. All wishful thinking, I knew. I could never be normal, but oh, how fun it was to pretend. As I sat down to enjoy my coffee, my fish began splashing around again. I looked over curiously, and now all three of them seemed to be looking at me. It was then I realized: they must be starving!

Thrown off by last night’s events, I had completely forgotten to feed them breakfast. It all made sense now. They weren’t staring at me plotting some crazy scheme; they were staring because their poor little stomachs were empty! I grabbed the can of fish food and was instantly overcome with dread as I realized we were out of food. How could this be? I thought back and remembered I hadn’t been grocery shopping in years.

You see, I had lost my family years ago in a tragic accident and received a small fortune from it. At first, I refused the money. The idea that any amount of cash could heal the pain of losing everyone I loved was appalling. But eventually, finding a job became nearly impossible; no one wanted to hire someone who was as "troubled" as I was. So, I took the money and used it to buy everything I needed to retreat as far away from humanity as possible: hence, the house in the middle of nowhere.

I had stockpiled canned goods and personal products high enough to sustain a small village through an apocalypse. This way, I could avoid interacting with the outside world for as long as I could. I knew my supplies wouldn’t last forever, but I hadn’t expected to run out so soon. It meant only one thing:

I would have to go to town today.