*TRRINNNG* * TRRINNNG*
The alarm shrieked, it's loud noise irritating, until a slender hand groped from under the blanket and silenced it with mechanical precision, like a ritual drilled into muscle memory.
For a moment there was stillness. Then, the blanket shifted and the girl beneath it slowly sat up, her expression blank, as if her mind had not caught up to her body.
"...Who am I? Where… am I?"
The questions whispered inside her skull were foggy, barely formed, yet heavy. Her gaze drifted toward the small mirror propped against the desk. The reflection that stared back was of a young woman with shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes dulled by sleep.
Her features carried a trace of prettiness, but without makeup or expression, she seemed ordinary. Just when the woman was slowly coming to her senses after waking up a knock sounded at the door.
*Knock* * knock.*
The sudden sound snapped her out of her trance. She jerked her head toward the door, pulse quickening.
Then came a muffled, impatient voice, which seemed so much familiar to her
"Julia, don't you dare bail on me! We planned this out, remember?"
Julia blinked, as though the name had been part of her thoughts. A momentary pause, then her lips moved almost automatically.
"Don't worry! I'll be out in… ten—no, fifteen minutes, max!"
The voice outside fell silent, apparently satisfied. Julia exhaled slowly, realizing only now how tightly she had been holding her breath.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, toes brushing against the cold floor, and took a better look at the room. A modest apartment: faint smell of instant coffee, a laptop with sticky notes clinging to its sides, laundry half-folded in a chair. Not messy, but not tidy either, the kind of space belonging to someone who lived alone and worked too much.
Her eyes fell on the half-open bathroom door, where toiletries and a hairbrush waited. She stood and shuffled toward them, the lingering fog in her head refusing to clear.
Her name was Julia. She worked in IT support, a job she had landed right after graduating. It had a reliable income, dull routine.
Endless calls about printers not working, systems crashing, and people forgetting their passwords. A career without color, where days blended together in fluorescent light.
But today, was Sunday, so it was supposed to be different.
She and her best friend, Alex, had sworn to escape their dullness for at least one day, to breathe before the week swallowed them whole again. A promise made in weary voices late on Friday night, clutching coffee cups like lifelines.
Julia rinsed her face with cold water, watching the droplets trace lines across her skin. In the mirror, her brown eyes flickered with something faintly unfamiliar, a shadow of hesitation she could not place.
She whispered to herself, almost unconsciously:
"…Why does it feel like I was living a different life?"
It didn't take long before Julia was ready. She stepped out of her room, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished wooden floor.
She wore a pale lavender blouse tucked into slim black jeans, the kind of casual outfit that was simple yet flattering. The blouse's sleeves were slightly rolled up, showing her slender wrists, and she had added a thin silver chain around her neck. Her hair was brushed into a loose ponytail, swaying gently as she moved.
Alex was already waiting in the living room. The moment her eyes landed on Julia, she gave a playful whistle.
"Are you getting more beautiful, Julia? Seriously, you look like you've been hiding some secret skincare routine from me."
Alex herself was dressed in a pastel-yellow dress that puffed lightly at the sleeves and ended just above her knees. The color contrasted with her slightly plump figure and blonde hair, making her look bright, cheerful, and approachable. Her skin was smooth and clear, the kind that glowed even without makeup.
Julia smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Look who's talking. Our little cutie trying to act like a fashion critic now?"
Both of them laughed, the sound echoing comfortably in the apartment hallway. And yet, for Julia, there was something faintly off about the exchange. Like laughter practiced in a mirror. Like lines spoken from a script. But she quickly shook the thought away.
---
The two friends spent the day outside, determined to wring joy from their Sunday. They started at a quiet café, indulging in caramel lattes and overpriced pastries, gossiping about coworkers and their hopeless managers.
Afterward, they wandered through a park lined with late-blooming flowers, snapping pictures with their phones, chasing each other half-seriously along the gravel paths like children.
At noon, they tried their hand at bowling—where Alex, despite her teasing confidence, kept throwing gutter balls, while Julia somehow managed three strikes in a row. That led to a round of arcade games, laughter bursting out as Alex missed every rhythm beat but won at claw machines, proudly presenting Julia with a cheap plushie.
In the evening, they treated themselves to a movie, sharing popcorn and whispering comments about the plot twists. By the time the credits rolled, Julia's temples were throbbing faintly, a dull headache gnawing behind her eyes. The cheerful noise of the crowd around them seemed too loud, too sharp.
"…Do you hear that?" Julia muttered, rubbing at her forehead.
Alex tilted her head. "Hear what?"
Julia froze for a second. Murmurs. Faint, unintelligible whispers, like voices just beyond the wall. They came and went with the rhythm of her pulse, fading when she focused, swelling when she didn't.
"Nothing," Julia lied quickly. "Just… a headache." She forced a smile, trying to shake the unease.