A voice echoed in my dreamlike state.

*Do you really have what it takes? Where's your will to survive?*

"No... five more minutes..."

I rolled around in my bed a few times for good measure. Finals were today, but did that really matter? Why does one day of exams determine so much of your life?

*Wait... what?*

I had a feeling this was the repetition of a previous scene. I was getting some serious deja vu.

*I've been in this time before... This is like the third day of the first day of finals, right?*

As I was trying to figure out what was going on...

The memories of a bad dream came flooding back to me in an instant.

My eyes snapped open and I immediately sat up straight in my bed. I instantly became lightheaded and my vision started fading due to the lack of blood flowing to my head, but that didn't matter. I touched my face and realized that a few tears were falling from my eyes. My breathing felt labored despite being unnaturally fast for sleeping in a bed. I also realized there was a bit of sweat formed on my forehead. The sharp pains in my abdomen had subsided completely, as if it was never there to begin with.

"..."

Whatever dream I had must've been really bad. I was seriously freaking out. Overreacting. Just like normal. Unless...

*It wasn't really a dream, was it?*

The pain was far too intense to be a dream. Even if you could simulate extreme pain in a dream, you would most likely wake up immediately, unless you're truly disciplined.

*I'm not a masochist, so... it couldn't have been a dream.*

I would never want to put myself in a dream scenario where I was experiencing any kind of pain. I had never felt that amount of pain in my life. Although I guess it would be pretty difficult to emulate the pain of literally being ripped open...

I shuddered at the thought of what had happened a few moments in the past. Although how long it had been since then was unclear. I forcefully changed the subject in my own mind so I didn't have to think about anything too important.

*Being unable to tell the time is really frustrating...*

Usually, I was able to tell the time pretty accurately even without a clock. However, being unconscious makes me lose track of time. Obviously.

*Regardless, I don't wanna go back out there...*

So I did what any logical person would do first thing in the morning. I looked at my phone, which was still somehow in my pocket. Yes; somehow I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday. The vaguely colored hooded sweater and the red-and-green shorts were intact.

*Was it yesterday? What even is time anymore...*

At this point, "yesterday" meant "on Earth", since I knew I was no longer in the same world.

*Why am I still checking the time on my phone?*

The time was 11:00 on 3-1-70. The information was still completely useless. Old habits die hard, I guess. I was so used to looking at my phone or computer after waking up. I never really thought about it too much until now.

*It's time to break that habit... Screen time is bad for your eyesight, right? Although I'm not sure if that's really the case.*

Despite me looking at screens for too long every day, I was in zero need of visual aid. A perfect twenty.

*But even if it doesn't affect my eyesight, it can't be a good thing to be addicted to this thing.*

For better or for worse, I knew I wasn't going to be able to use my phone or any electronic devices for a long time. Or if I would ever be able to again... Of course, I still had a solar charger for my phone. But without a connection, it was pretty much useless.

*Never mind that. Even if I had a connection, there aren't any people around to connect with. Instead of screen time, I'm going to have to spend time outside. What a change of pace. Not that it's a bad thing.*

After steering my train of thought in circles, I had pretty much forgotten about the incident of the previous day(?). According to routine, I reached for the bottle of water on my nightstand, only to realize it was much lighter than normal.

*Why is it empty?*

This was strange. For the past three years, I had never failed to fill the water bottle on my nightstand. Which meant there were three possibilities.

1. I really did forget to refill the water bottle for the first time ever.

2. I didn't go to bed "last night".

3. There's someone - or *something* - else here.

*There's no way that last one's true, right? Please don't let this trigger a flag.*

It really was highly unlikely that there would be someone else here. But once the thought entered my head, I couldn't just forget it. The most likely possibility would be option two, although option one is plausible as well. Doing something every day for three years doesn't make me immune to mistakes.

*I really shouldn't dwell on this any longer. Thinking deeply about useless things is a meaningless pastime. Only when it makes my brain hurt, though.*

I headed over to my bathroom to wash up, only to realize that my sink had a few droplets of water scattered around it. Also, my toothbrush looked like it was used a few hours ago.

*What the heck?*

The thought of the possibility of someone else being here surfaced in my mind. An irrational fear of witnessing another presence where there shouldn't be one shook my mind.

*Why would someone else be here? Calm down... calm down. Who could possibly be here? The fucking boogieman? Think rationally about all this.*

The sink and toothbrush could only have been used by me. Nobody, rational or irrational, would barge into my room only to use my sink and toothbrush. It made no sense no matter how you could spin the story.

*Who would be a threat in here, anyway? The fucking rabbits outside are scarier than anyone I've ever met.*

All of a sudden, a crazy thought popped into my head.

*What if the clock on my phone is actually correct?*

Of course, after checking it three times and getting strange results, it wasn't a likely possibility. However, I had been unconscious prior to every time I checked it, which meant I had no idea of how much time had passed anyway. I checked my phone again. 11:04, and the battery was at 96%.

I knew for sure that I charged my phone to full last night. And I knew that my phone didn't have a particularly stunning battery life. Which meant that...

*A small amount of time has actually passed.*

How long exactly had yet to be seen, but it was certain that I wasn't waking up for the first time "today".

*It looks like I really don't know anything about this world.*

I let out a small sigh and stared at myself in the mirror, since I had apparently already washed up for the morning. This, inadvertently, is another reality check. In a dream, your reflection is often nonexistent or distorted. But here, it was crystal clear.

Dark hair almost long enough to completely cover my forehead, white but slightly tanned skin, and signature big, bright green eyes. Nothing about my face had changed. I let out a small chuckle and shook my head.

*Still not dreaming, apparently.*

With various pieces of conflicting information confirmed, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed towards the door leading to the hallway outside. Since I still had my clothes on from yesterday(?), I didn't need to worry about changing into new ones.

*I wonder if anything's different out there.*

I hesitated for a second, and opened the door at a definitely very normal pace. As the hallway slowly filled my view, I was relieved to see that nothing had changed about it. Of course, the paintings were different from the ones in my original house, and that threw me off. It took me a second to remind myself that I wasn't truly home, and nothing had changed from the last time I had seen it. At this moment, my stomach rumbled furiously.

*Ugh... I need to eat something. Again...*

My previous breakfast was a woeful consumption of dry cereal. This was undoubtedly one of the lowest energy breakfasts to ever exist. I was already very hungry. I rushed over to the kitchen to hopefully get another meal in my stomach, when I saw nothing but a piece of paper on the table.

*Right, there's nobody home... I have to make breakfast myself. Wait... what's this paper?*

It was just sitting there on top of the table in the spot where Jeanna normally sat. I hastily unfolded it. It had a sloppily handwritten message on it. I read it aloud.

"Do you really have what it takes? Where's your will to survive?"

*...*

"WHO'S THERE?" I yelled.

My nerves couldn't take it anymore. I was already subconsciously paranoid about someone else being here, and seeing a note appear on the dinner table threw me over the edge. Unbeknownst to me, my heartbeat had accelerated. I spun my head around frantically, listening closely. But nobody came.

*Calm down! Calm down... Right... this handwriting is familiar.*

I suddenly remembered the previous note that had appeared yesterday.

*Or was it a few hours ago? I don't even know at this point.*

I remembered that I had crumpled it up and thrown it in the waste bin. I went to go dig it out. Fortunately, the bin was empty besides the piece of paper, so I didn't need to get my hands dirty digging through garbage. I un-crumpled it and read aloud once more.

"For you, our last hope."

I flipped it over, for there were more words on the back.

"Survive. And win."

Indeed, the handwriting on this note was identical to the new one.

*So, whoever left the first note didn't even show up. And the handwriting is identical to this other note, which means it's from the same person. Therefore, it's unlikely for this person to show up. But should I even refer to the author of this note as a person?*

To reiterate, there were no signs of human activity in the kitchen, other than a cereal box on the counter. And that cereal was eaten by me. So how did this note appear here?

*Are you mocking me, author of the note? Do I have what it takes?*

Who was this author to ask me if "I have what it takes"? Why do they have any authority over my actions? Although I didn't believe in God, I had to realize that supernatural phenomena were possible in this world that was not Earth. It was possible that whoever left this note was a more powerful being.

"Do I have what it takes..."

I repeated this phrase a few times in my head and out loud. After a few iterations, I switched up the wording.

*I do have what it takes.*

I know this is a common trait of most people, but I hate being mocked. I hate it when my abilities are questioned. But I had to prove it. I had to prove it to myself, and whoever wrote this note. I had to show him, and myself, that I could produce results.

And I had another suspicion that I had to voice aloud.

"I'll show you that I do have what it takes. Whoever's *messing with me*, I'll show you that I'm truly capable! And when I find you, I'll beat you up!"

I knew I was challenging an unknown foe. I knew that my current strength was nowhere near enough to "beat up" such a being. However, I had a feeling that I could eventually get there. All I had to do was train. With the cathartic speech over with, I once again opened up the door and set foot in the outside world.