Deep in the night's embrace, a sudden, sharp jolt tore her from slumber. Her chest hitched, a frantic rhythm in the oppressive dark as her gaze locked onto the ceiling. For a breath-holding moment, her eyes were an unsettling duality of green and blue. Then, as if a switch had flipped, the blue melted away, leaving only the piercing, singular green.
With a visible effort, she took a shaky breath, sitting up from her prone position. Her hand instinctively shot to her temple, pressing hard against the relentless, throbbing pain that blurred her vision and stole her thoughts. As her vision sharpened in the dim light, she scanned her apartment. The working table next to her bed was an incoherent sprawl of open books, crumpled take-out containers, and half-finished projects. Every surface, every shadowed corner of the room, echoed the same profound disarray.
Aysel Tsukikiba gazed at her open bedroom window, a sudden chill tracing a path down her spine as the cold wind swept inside her apartment. The digital glow of her clock read 12:12 AM. Donning her favorite black satin nightgown, she rose to close the window, then slipped back into bed, preparing for sleep. Yet, her heart hammered a frantic rhythm in her ribs, a desperate attempt to grasp the elusive fragments of a forgotten dream.
* * * * *
Aysel woke up to a yet another throbbing headache the next morning, sleep offering no genuine escape. She couldn't recall when slumber had finally taken hold. Her long brown hair, a chaotic nest, mirrored her internal disarray as she went through the motions of brewing her coffee. Then, a spark ignited within her: Yesterday was over. Her final day at work, the last of two weeks training a promising new hire, had passed. She was liberated from her boss's incessant shouting and the watchful eye of a particular colleague. Her long-awaited vacation, planned a month ago, now waving.
By 2 PM, Aysel's apartment was immaculate and her packing complete. She finally relaxed on the couch, a yet another coffee in hand, meticulously checking her itinerary. She knew April in the Philippines would be hot, but she'd still tucked in a couple of hoodies just in case.
Her small luggage, a marvel of organization, held her entire vacation wardrobe: pajamas, her five favorite shirts, an assortment of strapless tops, shorts, jeans, skirts, and bikinis. Essential toiletries, her favorite lotion and perfume, slippers, and shoes were also neatly packed. In a small miracle of space-saving, even her cat's necessities found a spot. Her backpack, ready for immediate access, was loaded with snacks (both hers and Felix's), her laptop, camera, chargers, and a backup phone.
With boarding set for 6 PM and departure at 8 PM sharp, she took one final, crucial step: tucking her passport securely into her pouch alongside her cards, Id's and money. Finally ready, she hitched her backpack just above her luggage. Her black cat, Felix, was nestled inside his backpack carrier, contentedly nipping at his favorite carrot doll. Aysel took one last look at the apartment that would be empty for months, then locked her front door.