Everything feels so reel.
He lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling for hours, his thoughts running—trying to process the things that were happening.
Suddenly, he sat up and looked at the mirror before him. His expression didn't change.
"Ming Ming."
A distant yet familiar voice came.
He stood up immediately....
'only one person calls me like that '
Quickly he moved through the hallway to the living room.
His body froze.
Chest tightened.
Eyes widened, burning.
In front of him was the only person who loved him—
and the only person he had longed to see his entire life.
"Tia, I'm back. Sorry I couldn't make it back yesterday," she said, putting her bag down.
"What's wrong?" his mother quickly said, putting down her bag.
He stood there, frozen, tears streaming down his face.
Ma had disappeared suddenly after graduation.
I thought I would never see her again.
His cry deepened as memories of his life without her came crashing in.
"Tia, what's wrong? Did something happen?" she asked, brows furrowed.
She moved forward, arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.
"M... Ma, where did you go?" he managed through his sobs, clinging to her.
"Did you abandon me?
"Where did you go".
I promise I'll be good this time… so don't leave, please. Ma,
please don't go."
She held him tighter. "Shhh… where is all this coming from? I'm here. I always will be." Her voice was low against him.
"B did something happen, Tia? Tell me. You know you can tell me anything," she added, her voice soft and laced with worry, patting his head.
But he just kept sobbing.
She stayed there with him until he calmed down—eyes swollen, head throbbing.
"I'll go heat up some soup for you," she said, heading to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, she came back with two bowls in her hands, handed one to him, and took the other.
He lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth.
Warmth spread across the familiar taste he had missed all his life.
"It's been years since I had this."
Tears gathered again.
"A-Tia," his mother said softly,
"Is this about school? Are they bullying you?
Is it the exam?
You don't have to write the academy exams if you don't want to...
or is it because I haven't been home that much?"
He looked up at her.
Worry clouded her eyes.
"Ma… nothing happened," he said, voice cracking, forcing the tears back.
"You don't need to worry."
I won't be writing it,
because I'm already dead, he thought distantly.
This is just a dream.
She sighed and reached for the phone in her bag.
"If you're not writing it, I'll go talk to the teacher now," she said.
"The exam starts tomorrow—on Monday, January 17th."
His hand froze mid-air.
Impossible.
"Ma," he asked quietly,
"what date is it today?"
She frowned.
"What kind of question is that? It's January 17th."
"How old am I?"
She frowned again.
"What kind of question is that? You're seventeen. You'll be turning eighteen in a few months."
He lowered his hand slowly, eyes distant.
His chest tightened.
He remembered falling.
Darkness.
Pain.
He remembered dying years after that date.
"Tia, you're acting strange today," she said gently, her hand covering his.
"Is something wrong?"
He looked away.
"It's getting late, Ma. I think I should go to bed."
Then silence.
"Okay. If you need anything," she said softly,
"you tell me."
"I will."
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
The room fell silent.
He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his hands.
A small, quiet laugh escaped him.
"It's all a dream. No way you're seventeen."
He dragged his legs up, adjusting himself on the bed.
"If I sleep now, this dream would end," he thought.
A sad smile appeared on his lips.
Everything is just an illusion...
But at least I got to see Mom.