Andrew stood in the middle of nowhere, a dense, mysterious fog curling around him, blurring everything beyond five steps ahead. Cold air clung to his skin as he turned his head left, then right, searching for direction. His heart thudded in his chest, unsure of what lay beneath his feet with each cautious step forward.
Suddenly, the sky above shifted—brightening into a menacing, blood-red hue that pulsed like a fresh wound. The ground beneath him rippled and darkened, transforming into a sea of thick, crimson liquid.
Frozen in place, Andrew's breath hitched. "Where am I? What's going on?" he muttered, his voice trembling, his wide eyes scanning the surreal nightmare around him.
Then he saw her—a young girl clutching a teddy bear, tears cascading down her cheeks, glistening like pearls in the red-tinted light.
What's a kid doing here? Andrew thought, instinct propelling him forward.
He crouched to meet her eye level, softening his voice. "Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asked, extending a gentle hand.
He glanced around again—nothing but the fog, a haunted-looking house looming in the distance, and the eerie red sea encircling it. The air was heavy, the silence thick.
What should I do to calm her? He wondered, anxiety prickling his spine.
"Um… how about you stay with me until we find your mom?" he offered, forcing a warm smile as he wrapped his hand around hers.
"Okay, Uncle!" she chirped through tears, her face brightening with trust.
---
A Sudden Change
In an instant, the world shifted.
Now Andrew stood inside a lavishly furnished house, elegant and extravagant. Framed photos lined the walls, but every face was blurred, the details smudged and unreadable like forgotten memories.
He turned, searching for the girl, but before he could take a step, a teenager appeared out of nowhere—eyes red-rimmed, face streaked with tears. Dressed in a school uniform, she lifted a trembling arm and pointed a gun at him.
"Please, put the gun down! I don't mean any harm! I don't know how I got here!" Andrew cried, arms raised, voice pleading.
Bang! Bang!
Shots rang out. His body jerked as pain seared through his chest. He dropped to the floor, gasping, vision blurring, limbs cold. He fought for breath, agony consuming him.
He barely heard her scream, "No! I didn't do it! I didn't kill anyone!"
She turned the weapon on herself, hands shaking.
"No! Don't do it!" Andrew rasped, his voice weak, filled with panic.
Bang!
---
The scene faded again.
Now he stood in a sunlit field, blanketed in vibrant flowers. The golden warmth of the summer sun bathed everything in soft light, the floral scents calming his shaken nerves.
Andrew walked through the petals, dazed. "I think I'm dead. I don't understand what's happening. I was just shot, and it felt real. Now I'm in a flower garden? Where next, Hades?" he muttered, trying to make light of it, brows knitted in confusion.
Then he saw her.
A woman, likely in her mid-twenties, with long dark hair cascading down her back. She wore a flowing white dress, radiant under the sunlight. Her presence was ethereal—like a bride awaiting her groom.
She turned to face him, and Andrew's breath caught.
Though he was gay, he couldn't deny how stunning she was. Her eyes were round and clear, her nose delicately pointed, and her lips full and pink. Her gentle smile was like moonlight on still water—calm and beautiful.
"Hello, I'm Andrew. And you are…?" he said, cautiously stepping closer.
She didn't reply.
Seconds stretched. Minutes passed. The silence grew awkward.
"I'll just go," he murmured, turning away.
"Wait!" she called.
Suddenly, petals rained down around them like confetti. Golden threads shimmered in the air, linking their hearts together with a quiet hum.
This feels like something out of a fairy tale, Andrew thought. She's Sophia. My fated partner. I didn't recognize her because… she's not in a coma here.
"How did you get here? Who are you?" she asked, her voice melodic yet tinged with confusion.
"What do you mean, 'Who am I'? Can't you see the golden thread? We're fated partners!" Andrew replied, brow furrowed. Why is she asking something so obvious?
"As for how I got here, I don't know," he added, voice tight.
"What do you mean 'golden thread'? I can't see it," she said, tilting her head, eyes scanning the field.
Andrew blinked. "You can't see the thread? The golden thread connecting us?"
She looked around again, puzzled. "I really can't see it."
She genuinely can't see them. Why am I the only one? What's going on? Andrew wondered, a chill running through him.
"So you mean we're fated partners? And you've accepted me as yours?" Sophia asked, her voice tinged with hint of shyness.
"So you mean we're fated partners? And you've accepted me as yours?" Sophia asked, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness.
"I said we're fated partners. I never said I accepted you as my fated partner! I'm gay! Not only that, but I don't know why fate chose a woman!" Andrew's voice rose, frustration thick in his throat.
"So you're gay… but fated to me?" Sophia repeated, frowning as she processed it.
What is she thinking about now? Andrew narrowed his eyes.
"Can't you tell the thread to disconnect us? Since you don't like it and you're the only one who can see it," she asked earnestly, voice soft but serious.
"If I could, I would have! When you're fated, you're always fated!" he snapped, fists clenched. Is she seriously asking that? Everyone knows that's impossible!
"Well, okay," she said quietly, turning toward a lily blossom.
"That's it? Okay?" Andrew's tone brimmed with disbelief.
"What do you want me to do? Get you a scissors to cut it?" she said innocently, blinking.
Before he could answer—
Brrrrt! Brrrrt!
The blare of his alarm shattered the illusion. Andrew jolted upright in bed, breath uneven. Sunlight spilled through the window, birds chirping outside in their usual rhythm.
He stared at the ceiling. "What was that about?" he muttered, trying to make sense of the vivid dream.
Rushing to the bathroom, the sound of water echoed around him as he splashed cold water on his face, grounding himself.
Throwing on the first clothes he found, he grabbed some toast and raced out.
---
At Hill Crest Hospital
"I'm here to see Sophia Miles," Andrew told the nurse at the reception.
She looked at him with suspicion. "Who might you be? Patient Sophia Miles can't be seen by just anyone."
"I was her middle school classmate. After my accident, I came here for treatment and saw her name. I know she's in a coma… I just want to check up on her. Not only that, but I've been worried since I lost contact with her," Andrew said, lying smoothly, eyes steady.
Still suspicious, the nurse replied, "Even if you were classmate—"
"Please! I'll be quick. You can have someone watch or even wait outside the room," he interrupted.
"Fine," she relented. "You have five minutes. Someone will wait outside the door."
"Thank you!" he said, bowing slightly.
As they walked, Andrew's heart pounded. What did the dream mean? Is she awake? If she is… will she accept this cosmic bond? I'm not ready yet. What should I do if she's awake and ready to accept it? His thoughts swirled chaotically.
"Mr. Andrew, we're here," the nurse said, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts.
"Oh, thank you," Andrew replied, inhaling deeply as he steadied himself. I can do this.
He opened the door—and stepped inside.
There she was. Still.
Lying peacefully, unchanged. Her was face serene. But the golden thread now danced around them more intensely than ever, pulsing with light.
He stared, realization tightening his chest. She's the one from the dream. It really was her.
As he quietly closed the door behind him—
A flicker in his peripheral vision.
A man. Silent. Watching.
Someone Andrew hadn't seen before.
He froze.
The stranger's gaze followed him as he walked out of the room.