After uttering those words, a violent dizziness swept over me, making me stagger as if the ground beneath my feet were collapsing. My body nearly gave way, but I had just enough strength to brace myself against the cold wall of the alley. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my mind, swirling with fear and confusion, and silently wondered what I had hoped to achieve by saying that sentence. Everything seemed ridiculous, absurd even, as if I had placed my trust in an illusion mocking me. Yet, despite this sudden weakness, I felt a strange sense of relief washing over me, as if acknowledging this secret desire had slightly lightened the weight pressing down on my heart.
I struggled to rise, my legs trembling under accumulated fatigue, forcing myself to move forward. Even if this strange notification was likely just a product of my fractured imagination, it had awakened something in me, a faint glimmer of hope, fragile though it was. Each step felt heavy, as if my limbs refused to cooperate with my mind, but I continued nonetheless, unable to return home, unable to face the familiar emptiness of my apartment that promised me nothing. The street ahead seemed endless, each cobblestone echoing like a cruel reminder of my solitude, of the loss of everything I had once loved. I walked aimlessly, letting memories surface at every corner, each passing figure awakening a pain too old to ignore.
The scene of the apartment still haunted my mind, indelible and relentless. I tried to erase every image, to chase away the pain squeezing my chest, but it was useless. Every effort only intensified the void and the burning in my chest, and I realized that crying would never be enough to lift this weight. If tears could erase my pain, I would have shed liters long ago, yet nothing seemed to soothe the despair that had settled within me. I walked like a ghost, gradually losing all sense of time and space, hoping to merge with the unknown to escape what I had just experienced. The narrow, dark alley seemed to offer a deceptive safety, a temporary refuge where no one could reach me.
A sound pulled me from my thoughts. Ding. A notification on my phone. I ignored it, thinking it was nothing, and continued my silent walk. Seconds later, another notification sounded, equally easy to dismiss. Then came a call. The persistent alert became annoying, repetitive, and I felt a mix of frustration and fatigue wash over me. I grabbed the phone to turn it off, but the name displayed froze my blood. "Mom," I whispered, my voice trembling, disturbed by what I saw. Three years had passed since her death, yet her number was still there, intact, on my phone. I struggled to believe my eyes, my hands shaking as my heart tightened.
In a desperate attempt, I finally answered, unable to utter a word. A strange silence settled between me and the voice on the other end. Then that silence was broken by a soft, familiar, and warm voice. "Hello, my boy." My body froze, unable to react. My mind tried to rationalize what I was hearing, but it was impossible. I remained motionless, the phone pressed to my ear, while my thoughts spun in a mixture of fear, hope, and disbelief. "So you're not going to greet your mother… Eren Frost," the voice continued, and I realized this was not a dream. It was really her.
A word escaped my throat, trembling, tears already in my eyes. "Mo… mo… mom," I said, unable to hide the emotion flooding me. "Yes, my son, it's me…" she replied, and in that instant, the world around me vanished, replaced by a vast white space that swallowed me. In that blinding light, she appeared, seated in a wheelchair, her beauty leaving me breathless. "Mother…" I whispered, unable to believe what I saw, while my body seemed to float in a mixture of reality and dream.
She slowly approached, grasped my hands with warmth and tenderness, and I felt a wave of comfort wash over me. "Mother…" I repeated, tears streaming freely down my cheeks, as if I were twelve years old again. "Mom, I've missed you so much," I said, unable to hold back the emotion that had built up over the years. Her eyes, full of gentleness and safety, gave me a warmth I had never known since her disappearance. "I know you've missed me, son…" she murmured, and I felt each word as a caress on an old wound.
I could not stop crying, unable to contain my emotions, and she tried to reassure me. "You're a big boy now… no need to cry over so little," she said, gently wiping my tears with her hands. She traced her fingers along my cheeks, and I felt her familiar scent envelop me, a scent that had been absent from my life for far too long. "I don't want you to leave me anymore, mother…" I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion, and I remained frozen, unable to move.
Suddenly, another voice sounded. "That… that won't happen, little brother," and before me appeared my older sister, her warm, familiar smile illuminating the space. I couldn't believe it; I wanted to rise and run to her, but my mother held me back with unexpected strength. I looked up at her, searching her eyes for an explanation, and whispered, "Mother…" The warm touch of her hands reassured me once more, but a shiver of incomprehension settled within me.
The space around us suddenly changed, a blood-red hue seeping into the air, enveloping everything I saw. My mother, or at least the form I believed to be hers, lowered slowly toward me, eyes closed, then reopened to reveal pupils as red as blood. Her voice, now deep and menacing, uttered words I had never heard from her before: "She is right, Eren… we will never leave you again… after all, we are family." I felt my body pulled toward her, and what had been her warm arms moments before became an infinite abyss. I floated, swallowed by a boundless void, until everything turned black.
The silence was broken by a female voice that abruptly pulled me from that abyss. "Sir… you're awake," she said. I opened my eyes with difficulty, trying to discern who spoke, and realized it was a nurse, her face marked by astonishment and wonder. "It seems you're really awake… it's incredible," she exclaimed, and I stared at her, still dazed by what had just happened. The space seemed more concrete now, yet my memories of my mother and sister's appearance were still vivid, leaving me utterly confused.
A man entered then, likely the doctor, his imposing presence making me shiver despite my exhaustion. "Hello, Mr. Eren… I see that you are in good health… despite your two months in a coma," he announced with a calm that sharply contrasted the inner chaos I felt. I could not believe his words. Minutes earlier, I had spoken to my mother, or rather to what resembled my mother, and now I lay in a hospital bed, unable to comprehend how the shift from one state to the other had been possible. Questions swirled in my mind, no answers forthcoming.
As I wrestled mentally with this incomprehension, a notification appeared on my phone, hovering in the air like an unusual reminder of the strange event that had just occurred.
[WISH GRANTED]
The words glowed with a strange intensity, and for the first time, I understood that what had happened might not have been a mere hallucination or dream. The world suddenly seemed larger and more unsettling than it had ever been, and I remained there, heart pounding, unable to predict what would come next, yet certain of one thing: my life had just plunged into something completely different.