7
828words
This was different from any of the first seven resets.
Before, no matter how much I protected Ryan, he'd always have problems around this mock test.
Answer sheets ruined, accused of cheating, stuck in the office proving his innocence.
So in the first seven lives, when Mrs. Sullivan suddenly showed up and only took Kyle, it was different.
But this time, everything veered off course.
Kyle and Ryan both went home.
The next morning, the sky was still overcast.
I came out of the small apartment the System had arranged for me, heading to school.
Truth was, there was no character named 'Lily Carter' in this novel.
My identity, my address, my allowance... everything was fabricated by the System.
In this world, I had no past, no family.
My existence began in that high school classroom, waking from that nap.
And my only mission here was to redeem Ryan.
At first, I was endlessly grateful.
Before entering this world, all I saw was a hospital ceiling and my parents' weary faces.
The System gave me a chance to breathe, run, feel the sun again.
But now, it brought new despair.
Now I just wanted to self-destruct, wait for Kyle to act.
I thought Kyle could do it.
Because four years later, when Kyle was 22, the man he killed.
Was his stepfather.
Ryan's father.
A boy who bullied for fun, exploding at a breaking point, killing another bystander in a rage... seemed plausible.
Lost in thought, I reached a crosswalk, waiting for the light.
A figure stood silently beside me.
Ryan.
But today, he seemed different.
"L... Lily."
Ryan's voice was humble, pleading: "Can we... talk? Just once... please."
I listened, a wave of bitter irony rising.
Talk?
Which of those seven lifetimes hadn't I talked to him?
Tried to pry open his gentle, clam-like heart, see what past hid inside.
Ryan always smiled, shutting me out of his world gently.
He accepted my confession, dated me, lived with me, even married me.
Yet I couldn't tell how much was love.
How much was guilt he couldn't repay.
And love mixed with doubt is like fire and water; together, one must destroy the other.
I lifted my foot to walk away.
Thud.
A dull sound.
I froze mid-step, turned back incredulously.
Ryan was kneeling on the rough sidewalk.
"Don't go..."
His forehead hit the pavement, making that sound.
A few early pedestrians looked over curiously.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Three more firm knocks.
Ryan's forehead turned red.
"Please, don't go."
I was stunned.
Then, warm liquid slid from my eyes.
Vision blurred instantly.
Ryan froze, panicked.
"No... don't cry... I'm sorry... sorry, you can go... don't cry..."
I hadn't expected to cry either.
Not from heartache.
But out of —rage.
Resentful rage, pent-up rage, endless rage.
"Ryan... what do you want?"
My voice trembled with unshed tears.
"Do you think I haven't given enough? How many times must I redeem you? How many times must I cry for you, watch you die before you're satisfied?!"
Death is just a door; the real hell is living after losing your love.
The kneeling figure jolted violently.
Ryan slowly lifted his head, his handsome face filled with shock and confusion.
"The future me... died?"
I froze.
He didn't know?
"The memories I have..." Ryan's voice was painfully raw, "don't go that far. In them... it's like watching someone else's life... always a 'she'... she was good to me, over and over..."
The worst pain isn't endless darkness; it's having something bright and beautiful brought to you, then cruelly taken away.
"I don't understand... If... if that's true, if I was that 'he'... I'd wake up laughing."
Ryan murmured, looking at me.
Those dark eyes were now misted, deep and wet.
"I can't imagine, after having light like you... why I'd choose..."
Ryan's voice caught.
"So why? Why would the future me still choose to die?"
I watched him silently, tears still flowing.
I didn't know.
I wanted to know too.
Finally, I wiped my face roughly, sniffled. "I only know... no matter how hard I tried, how I tried to warm you... those 'yous'... after seeing a note in a little wooden box... would turn cold again."
"A... wooden box?"
Ryan repeated the words, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.
Then, as if remembering something, his pupils contracted sharply.
"Last night... last night my father had some professor over. They did this... ceremony. Used a small wooden box and a note. After, the professor buried the box under the old oak tree in the backyard..."
"Take me to see it."
The words burst out.
My heart pounded.
Redemption or not, finding that box, seeing that note, had become my obsession.
It took my friend, my lover, my husband, time and again.
Ryan knelt, looking up at me.
Like a drowning man seeing the moon on the shore.
Finally, he nodded slowly.
"...Okay."
