CHAPTER FIVE: Patterns
699 Words
Sophia spilled her drink at lunch.
It wasn’t dramatic. Just a small cup of iced tea tipping over, splashing across the table, and onto her lap. The cold soaked through her skirt, making her jump as the tablemates gasped.
“Whoa, chill!” Cassie laughed, sliding a handful of tissues toward her. “That’s like… the third time this week. Are you cursed or just clumsy?”
Sophia forced a chuckle, muttering a quick thanks, but her hands were trembling. Her face flushed with embarrassment—not just from the spill, but because…
Because in her dream the night before, Abegail had done the same thing.
Same tip of the cup. Same gasp. Same sound of ice clinking against tile.
But in the dream, the tea hadn’t stayed.
It had turned to blood.
Sophia stared at the amber liquid pooling on the table, her throat dry. This wasn’t just déjà vu anymore.
This was something else.
This was repetition.
After school, she wandered the halls alone. Her fingertips brushed along the cool metal of the lockers, their color a muted red. But in her dreams, they were always green.
The difference didn’t make her feel better. It made her more certain.
These weren’t just dreams. They were echoes. Blueprints. Like her life had already happened once—and now, for some unknown reason, it was happening again.
That evening, Sophia helped Jane put up decorations for the upcoming school festival. They hung paper lanterns in the gymnasium, twisted string lights around pillars, and taped posters to the walls. The air smelled of old paint and masking tape.
Jane, bright as ever, chatted about her plans for the event: booths, games, food stalls, a photobooth. “I’m making Anthony take pictures with me this time,” she said, holding up a glittery cutout frame. “Last year, he ditched me for basketball. I swear, if he even glances at a ball this week, I’m hiding his shoes.”
Sophia laughed, but it sounded hollow to her ears.
Guilt clawed at her from the inside.
She still hadn’t told Jane.
About what happened.
About that moment.
That kiss.
That mistake.
It haunted her more than the dreams ever could. Because the dreams… weren’t her fault. But this?
This was entirely hers.
As they untangled lights, Jane suddenly asked, “Do you believe in second chances?”
Sophia froze, fingers tangled in a knot of wire. “What?”
“Like… for people. For relationships. Even after they mess up,” Jane said, not looking at her. “Do you think they deserve another shot?”
Sophia’s throat went tight. “Sometimes. Depends on what they did.”
Jane tilted her head, brow furrowed. “Why? Are you thinking of giving someone a second chance?”
Sophia forced a laugh. “No. Just curious.”
But the dream that night answered for her.
She stood once again in the glowing courtyard, the same tree at its center, branches lit from within. Petals drifted in the air, slow and heavy.
Lucas leaned lazily against the fountain, flipping a coin between his fingers. “You’re starting to see it, huh?”
Sophia glanced at the water. It rippled and twisted, and instead of her own reflection, she saw dozens of versions of herself—laughing, crying, kissing, screaming, running, breaking.
“Am I dreaming,” she asked, “or remembering?”
Lucas grinned. “Why not both?”
Across the courtyard, Jay and Andre stood facing each other, tension thick between them, unspoken and dangerous.
Abegail stepped between them. Her voice was calm but heavy. “You don’t know who you’re hurting yet, do you?”
Sophia opened her mouth to answer…
But the petals began to fall faster, crumbling into ash as they touched the ground.
She woke with a start.
The early light bled through her curtains. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand.
A message from Jane:
“Hey, is it true? About you and Anthony?”
Sophia’s heart dropped.
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her hands.
In the dream, they were clean.
But in real life…
She wasn’t so sure anymore.
- Writer
