'Sigh… Overtime again today, huh?'
The words slipped from my lips as I stared blankly at the towering stack of paperwork in front of me. My eyes were already sore from the computer screen, and my wrists ached from hours of typing. Another late night. Another day where I gave everything and got nothing in return.
Every time I felt like I was finally catching up, my supervisors would drop even more work onto my desk. As if I had a second pair of hands. As if I had no life outside this damned office.
I leaned back in my chair, letting out another heavy sigh. The lights overhead buzzed faintly, and the silence in the room grew louder the longer I sat there. I glanced around. Almost all the lights were off. Cubicles stood like grave markers in a cemetery of burnout. Everyone else had gone home. Only I remained, like some lost ghost haunting the office after hours.
I let my head fall back, eyes tracing the dull ceiling tiles.
What am I even doing anymore?
"This can't go on," I muttered. "Once I save up enough… I'm quitting. I'll move far away from this chaos, somewhere quiet. Peaceful. Maybe a little house in the countryside. Wake up to the sound of birds, not traffic."
The thought almost made me smile. Almost. But deep down, I knew I'd said the same thing a hundred times before. Dreams don't pay rent.
With a resigned groan, I forced myself upright and returned to the task at hand. My fingers moved like machines, mechanical, joyless, automatic. One by one, I ticked off the items from the list, pushing through the exhaustion that clung to every muscle in my body.
When I finally placed the last document in its folder, I exhaled shakily. My back was stiff, my neck sore, and my mind dangerously close to shutting down.
"Done… finally."
I stretched, hearing the satisfying pop of joints realigning. The clock on the wall read 01:43 PM.
I packed my things slowly. Every movement took effort. My body felt like a machine that hadn't been oiled in years, rusty and barely holding together. The moment I stepped outside the office building, the cool night air hit me like a wave. I paused, letting it wash over my face. The city was quiet at this hour, but even in silence, it never felt peaceful.
My stomach growled. Of course, I hadn't eaten dinner. Again.
Maybe I should stop by the convenience store, I thought. Just grab something quick before I pass out on the bus.
The fluorescent lights inside the store were jarring compared to the darkness outside. A soft chime rang as the door closed behind me.
"Welcome," the cashier greeted.
I glanced toward her. She was young. College-aged, maybe. Her eyes looked tired, but she still managed a small smile. I returned it with a nod and headed down the nearest aisle.
I didn't need much. Just some bread, maybe a bottle of tea or something sweet. My brain was too fried to think straight.
That's when I heard it.
"HEY! Hand over the money! NOW!"
My body froze.
The voice came from the front of the store. Loud. Angry. Aggressive.
A robbery.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Instinct kicked in. I crouched down and ducked behind one of the shelves, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I peeked through a gap between the snack bags.
It was just the three of us, the cashier, the robber, and me.
The man was holding something, probably a gun. I couldn't see it clearly from where I was. The cashier's hands were trembling as she fumbled with the register.
"This all you got?" he barked.
"I-I'm sorry… it's all we have right now," she stammered. Her voice cracked. She was terrified.
"Bullshit! Don't lie to me!" he roared. "You think I'm playing around?! I'll blow your damn head off!"
I clenched my fists. My throat was dry.
I was scared, no, I was terrified. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to be a hero. I just wanted to go home, eat something, and sleep. But… I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
The girl at the counter was shaking. She looked like she could break down any second.
If I don't do something… he might kill her.
I looked around. My eyes landed on a glass bottle of mineral water on the shelf beside me. I grabbed it. My palms were sweating. My breath shallow.
Just distract him. Just one second. That's all I need.
With everything I had, I threw the bottle toward the far side of the store. It shattered loudly against the tiles.
The man spun around. "What the—?!"
"NOW!" I shouted.
I lunged forward, shoving the shopping cart in front of me with all my strength. It crashed into him just as I tackled his side. The world turned into chaos, shouts, glass, impact.
We both crashed through the front window.
I felt shards slicing into my skin, the sting of cold air hitting fresh wounds. Pain bloomed in every direction. My head slammed into something hard.
And then—
Darkness.
I woke up slowly, my body settling into the hard wooden chair beneath me. It creaked faintly as I shifted, a stark contrast to the heaviness that pressed down inside my chest. My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked against a vastness that made my head spin.
This wasn't a room. It wasn't anywhere familiar. Around me, endless darkness gave way to the shimmer of distant stars and swirling galaxies. Colors of violet, blue, and faint gold stretched beyond any horizon I'd ever known, wrapping me in a cosmic silence so complete it almost crushed me.
The cold ache of loneliness wasn't new, but now it filled every corner of this infinite space.
Ahead, an old man sat calmly. His beard was long and white, like a cloud resting on his chest, and his eyes held a depth of quiet wisdom that made me feel simultaneously exposed and comforted.
Suddenly, memories crashed back, the chaos in the store, the gun, the glass shattering around us, the rush of fear.
I moved my hands, expecting pain or injury, but found nothing. No wounds. No blood. No burning in my skin.
A hollow numbness spread through me.
Am I dead?
Before I could even voice the question, the man spoke, his voice soft but sure, like a river flowing steady through my doubt.
"Yes. You're dead. Are you at peace now?"
His words echoed inside me, a quiet reckoning.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. A dull ache settled in my chest, disappointment, grief, and something that felt dangerously close to regret.
"So that's it..." I whispered, voice breaking. "I'm gone."
It felt almost absurd. I was supposed to be stronger. Brave. But the truth was, I was terrified. That robber had a pistol. My hands shook even as I pushed him. I knew I was risking everything, but I thought maybe… maybe I could make it.
I closed my eyes, the weight of all the unfinished things pressing down on me.
"I wanted so badly to live," I said, voice raw. "To save up enough money, leave this goddamn city behind. To breathe fresh air in the countryside. To finally rest."
A faint smile touched the old man's lips. "You did well. Don't let regret poison your heart. You saved a life. You acted with courage. That is not nothing."
I looked up at him, searching for proof in his steady gaze.
"Thank you," I breathed, feeling the tightness in my chest loosen just a fraction.
And then the question I feared most slipped out.
"What happens now? Am I... going to be reincarnated?"
"Yes," he replied simply. "You will have another chance."
I nodded slowly, a strange mixture of relief and sorrow swirling inside me.
Because honestly, this life, it never felt like mine. I was a machine trapped in a cage of endless work, no time to live, no one left to care about.
If I get a second chance, I won't waste it.
I want a life where I'm not just surviving. I want to live, truly live.
A life in the countryside, surrounded by quiet, by nature, by peace.