Chapter 19

Miley woke before her alarm, the soft morning light slipping through the curtains.

The house was quiet, the usual hum of early morning wrapping around her like a blanket.

She stretched, listening to the familiar sounds downstairs-the soft clink of a cup, the low hum of the fridge.

Everything seemed normal.

Or… almost.

Breakfast felt ordinary.

Toast. Tea.

Her mother poured it carefully, her father scrolled through his phone, glasses perched low.

But for a brief moment, her mother froze mid-motion, hands lingering in the air as if a frame had been skipped.

Her father’s laugh came slightly delayed, a note off from what his expression suggested.

Miley blinked and shook her head.

It’s nothing. Just morning.

After breakfast, Miley lingered by the table, staring at her school diary.

She had written the date yesterday:

13 October.

But now, as she flipped it open, the date stared back at her:

11 October.

Her stomach dropped.

“Wait… what?” she whispered to herself.

The tea cup trembled slightly in her hand.

Still, a tiny knot of unease had formed in her stomach.

She dressed quickly, skirt and sweater, hair tied back.

The walk to Blackwood High was familiar, each step automatic:

pace, turns, even where she avoided the cracks in the pavement.

Small things caught her eye-the dip in the road, the cluster of leaves by the fence-and for the first time, she noticed how identical they looked to the last time she walked this path.

At school, Anya waved from the notice board.

“Morning! Did you finish that homework?”

“Yes,”

Miley said automatically, smiling faintly.

Her thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the subtle oddities at home.

She entered the classroom.

Felix was there, sitting where he always sat, relaxed and oblivious.

“Hi,” she said softly.

He looked up. “Hey,” polite, familiar.

Her chest tightened.

He didn’t remember her.

Of course he didn’t.

The lesson began.

Words she had heard countless times drifted over her:

teacher explaining, chalk scratching.

Everything seemed ordinary-except her awareness.

Every gesture, every line on the board, felt repeated, slightly too familiar.

Lunch passed with Anya chattering, Miley responding on cue, but her mind lingered on her parents, their strange pauses, and the unshakable feeling that something was off.

Walking home, clouds pressed low over Blackwood.

The house greeted her with quiet.

Nothing had changed-or maybe everything had.

Upstairs, she sat at her desk, pen hovering above her diary.

She hadn’t written in it yet-today would be the first day…… again.

Something is off.

Mom and Dad… I don’t know.

Felix… I don’t think he remembers me yet.

But I feel it. I feel this repeating.

The pen scratched across the page, filling it with her thoughts.

She paused often, staring at the words, trying to make sense of them.

Night came.

She lay on her bed, diary closed beside her, staring at the ceiling.

The small knot of unease lingered, sharper now.

Tomorrow… I’ll see what happens next.

She drifted into sleep, alert and uneasy, knowing-without quite understanding-that the cycle had started again.
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Chapter ended