The rain didn’t stop.

It only softened, turning into a slow, cruel whisper against the broken window.

Tap…
Tap…
Tap…

She didn’t know when she fell asleep.

She only knew when the dream took her.

Because it always came the same way.

Without warning.

Without mercy.

She was in a car.

Small.

Cramped.

Warm.

A faint smell of expensive perfume filled the air — sweet, comforting, familiar in a way that scared her.

The dashboard glowed softly.

The road stretched endlessly ahead.

Dark.
Winding.
Wrong.

Headlights appeared.

Too bright.

Too fast.

Blinding her eyes.

The road began to spin.

Trees twisted like shadows.

The sky cracked open.

Thunder roared so loudly that it felt like it split her chest in half.

She tried to speak.

Tried to call out.

But her voice was gone.

Stolen by fear.

Swallowed by darkness.

Then she heard it.

A voice.

Muffled.

Panicked.

Familiar in a way that made her soul ache.

“A—!”

Someone was screaming her name.

Her real name.

The one she didn’t remember.

The one that lived only inside broken fragments of memory.

The car began to spin.

Faster.

Faster.

The world flipped upside down.

Her body lifted from the seat.

The seatbelt cut into her skin.

Her fingers clawed at the air.

At something.

At someone.

Her reflection appeared on the glass.

Not just her.

Another woman’s eyes met hers.

Brown.

Soft.

Terrified.

“Baby…”

The word trembled.

The voice broke.

CRASH.

She woke up with a violent gasp.

Her body jerked upright.

The blanket tangled around her legs.

Her hair stuck to her damp forehead.

Her breathing came out broken.

Her hands trembled.

Her nails were dug deep into her palms.

Small, crescent-shaped red marks are burning in her skin.

Her heart wasn’t beating.

It was fighting.

Slamming.

Screaming.

Trying to escape.

The room was dark.

Cold.

Silent.

The hostel slept.

But she was wide awake.

Her mouth opened.

She tried to scream.

She tried to cry out.

She tried to let the pain leave her body through sound.

But nothing came.

Not a scream.

Not a sob.

Not even a whisper.

Just silence.

Just shaking lips.

And hot, silent tears that slid down her cheeks.

She wrapped her arms around herself.

Rocked slightly.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

A motion so old it felt ancient.

A motion she didn’t remember learning.

But her body remembered.

Her soul remembered.

Her gaze fell on the cracked ceiling again.

The same cracks from before.

They looked deeper now.

Darker.

Like wounds.

She lifted one hand slowly.

Touched her chest.

Right where it hurt the most.

Right where something felt missing.

“Why do I feel like I lost something… I can’t remember?”

Her lips didn’t move.

But the question screamed inside her.

The rain turned into a soft drizzle.

The wind hummed.

The curtain fluttered slightly.

She lay back down slowly.

Careful.

Fragile.

As if she might shatter.

She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her worn t-shirt.

Closed her eyes again.

Not to sleep.

Just to breathe.

Outside, the world went on.

Cars moved.

People laughed.

Lights flickered.

Lives continued.

And in a small, cracked room…

A girl held onto the broken pieces of a dream made of glass.

A dream that one day…

Would lead her back home.