I wake up with a start to the sound of my alarm going off. It's already 4 o'clock. I stay completely still as I let my eyes adjust to the darkness in my room. Through the thin walls, I can hear my neighbor's television blaring. He must have fallen asleep without turning it off again.

It takes me ten more minutes to gather my senses completely and ten more to roll off my bed. With no more time to spare, I switch into auto-mode. I brush my teeth, wash my unbelievably unmanageable hair, put on clothes without giving much thought into fashion, wear my worn-out shoes, grab my large backpack and leave my shabby room. It's a routine I am accustomed to and I know that I will lead this life for many years to come.

The skies are still dark, the moon still hanging on the blue tint of the early morning. The apartment building is still asleep save the snack bar at the ground floor and as I pass by, the husband of the owner greets me. I've known them ever since I moved here four years ago and every day, I see them on my way to work.

“Take care, Dahl! When you're home, drop by the shop. The marinated ox meat my wife made is ready!” Mr. Young says as he waves goodbye. I make sure to give him a smile and a short reply.

They are good people, Mr. Young and his wife. Occasionally they would knock on my door to share what's left of the day's food in their snack bar and to a minimum-wage employee, it's such a blessing. Whatever they give me can last three days when placed in my mini refrigerator. Their food is excellent too. It's funny how I think their food is what home would taste like, had my mother cooked for me. Sometimes, I remember to thank the universe for putting at least those two people in my life.

I hop on the first bus that comes my way and since it's still early in the morning, it is quite deserted. I pay the fare and choose a seat at the far back of the vehicle. Settled down, I fish out my phone from my pocket and insert the earbuds to each of my ears. As I push a button on my buds, sweet music fills the space around me. I then swipe on my cracked phone screen and navigate to the webnovel I've been reading lately.

As an employee in a publication company, one of my tasks is to read the works being published by other companies. It's how my boss thinks we can survive in the rather competitive field, learning the enemy's cards, and although I don't believe him, I do my job anyways. As long as it pays.

The webnovel I am reading is about a princess who successfully takes back everything taken away from her. Normally I skip novels with plot like this one but for some reason, I cannot do it now. Maybe it has something to do with the villainess of the story, the Crown Princess.

We both have Dahlia in our names but we are complete opposites. She grew up with beauty, intelligence, wealth and power. At such a young age, she was married off to the Crown Prince and became the Crown Princess. She had an uncle who doted on her, an aunt who guided her and, although her father did not take care of her still, he tried to protect her nearing the end.

As I near the end of the novel, the part where she is sentenced to die, I cannot help but sympathize with her. Yes, she took the title away from the protagonist and everything that came along with it— or at least she was written that way— but just like the protagonist, wasn't she also raised to become the Crown Princess? She played fair and square. It was not her fault she was chosen instead of the protagonist. What's unfair is the protagonist barging in the Royal Court, taking all the attention and love the Crown Princess worked hard for all of her life. If there's anyone who was robbed, it's the Crown Princess.

And now, the Crown Princess just downed poison. Unbelievable.

I swipe up, hoping that the last few paragraphs will treat the villainess better, but as I reach the end the hope vanishes. I close the reader app and mutter to myself, “Of course. The villain dies and they all live happily ever after.”

What comes next happens in a blur. I am suddenly propelled off of my seat and forward by a shaking so forceful it's like there's an earthquake. I land on all fours, my knees in pain, but in a split second I am midair again. Glasses are crunching and shattering everywhere. I realize then that the bus is spinning, rolling, and with each spin I am thrown against the windows and seats. Finally, the bus does one final roll and I hear something plunging in water. The windows are engulfed by something blue. I feel light. I'm underwater.

Another realization that's so loud hits me, I'm going to die. I'm inside a bus, supposedly on my way to work, and the said bus is underwater. How, I don't know. Why? I don't know. But I'm going to die.

If I knew this morning that it would be the last time I'd be in my room, I would have savored it. I wouldn't have gotten out of bed. I would have tossed away the routine I built for four years and just continued sleeping. If I knew this morning that it would be the last time I'd see Mr. Young and his wife, I would have entered the snack bar and ordered some ramen. I have been so busy existing that I did not try living.

I exit with useless thoughts going around in my head, my lungs protesting to breathe. Everything turns dark.