Why Am I Still Here?

The world wasn't done playing with me.

Eduardo watched me like he already knew what I was going to say before my lips moved. There was something in his expression—something between urgency and the patience of someone who had repeated the same conversation too many times.

—We don't have much time.

A shiver ran down my spine. Not because of his words, but because of the certainty in them.

—What do you mean?—My voice was firm, but my hands trembled—What's happening to me?

Eduardo averted his gaze for a second, as if debating how much truth I could handle. Then, he sighed.

—You already know, Ana.

I shook my head. No, I knew nothing. But before I could argue, the world faltered.

Just for a second.

The bookstore shelves flickered, as if reality were rewriting itself in real-time. The floor seemed to shift beneath my feet, tilting ever so slightly—like a held breath right before collapsing.

I grabbed the counter for support.

—Did you see that?

Eduardo didn't answer. He was watching me, but not with fear. With expectation. As if waiting for me to understand something that was still slipping away.

—You've been here too long—he murmured.

Nausea hit me.

—Too long? It's only been a few minutes…

He didn't confirm or deny it. He just let the silence weigh between us.

—Ana…—His voice was softer now, almost like a farewell—If you stay, time will notice.

I swallowed hard.

—How long?

Eduardo didn't answer right away. And when he did, his response chilled me to the bone.

—Long enough.

The air grew thick. Something in the back of my mind struggled to make connections I didn't want to accept. This isn't real. I repeated it like a mantra.

But Eduardo looked at me with the certainty of someone who had seen people wake up in the wrong place.

—The question isn't if this is real, Ana—he said—The question is: Why are you still here?

The weight of those words slammed into my chest.

My instincts screamed move, but my feet felt nailed to the floor. Something vibrated in the air, a barely audible hum, as if reality itself were losing patience.

—We have to go—Eduardo looked out the window—Now.

The world didn't wait for me to decide.

The bookstore unraveled around me, like a sheet of paper burning from the edges. The ground vanished. The air shifted.

And when I breathed again, I wasn't there anymore.

I was standing on a bridge.

Long. Narrow. Stretching over still water that reflected an endless, silent sky.

I turned around.

Eduardo was gone.

A chill crawled down my spine.

—Eduardo?—My voice barely echoed. The air devoured it before it could travel.

Silence.

And then, I saw him.

Far ahead, at the edge of the bridge.

It wasn't Eduardo.

It was someone else.

Someone waiting for me.

The bridge stretched before me, thin and railingless, as if the world had forgotten to finish building it.

The water below didn't move. No ripples. No distorted reflection. A perfect mirror of a sky with no sun.

I took a deep breath.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

But if it wasn't real… why did my chest ache like it was about to break?

I stepped forward.

The figure at the end of the bridge remained still, but I could see him more clearly now. A man. Tall, dressed in black. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was looking at me.

—Who are you?!—I shouted.

The sound felt muted, as if the air itself was swallowing my words before they reached him.

The man tilted his head.

He didn't move forward.

He didn't speak.

He just waited.

I swallowed hard. Looked back.

There was nothing.

No bookstore.

No Eduardo.

Just the bridge. Just the water. Just me.

The only way was toward him.

My footsteps echoed hollow against the stone. The ground was cold even through my shoes, and each breath felt heavier, as if I were unknowingly walking underwater.

This isn't happening.

But every step said otherwise.

The man didn't move until I was only a few meters away.

And then—

—Too late.

His voice was low, but sharp.

He turned.

And walked straight toward the edge of the bridge.

My body reacted before my mind.

—Wait!

I ran, but the bridge stretched beneath my feet. Every step I took only seemed to push him farther away.

—Don't do it!

The man didn't hesitate.

He didn't look back.

He didn't falter.

And without another word—

He jumped.

My scream caught in my throat.

I sprinted to the edge, my heart hammering against my ribs. I leaned over.

The water was there.

But he wasn't.

No ripples.

No trace.

It was as if he had never been there at all.

The world seemed to freeze.

And then, a voice—soft as a whisper—slid behind me.

—You shouldn't be here.

My breath hitched.

I turned.

And I saw something I was never supposed to see.

The voice was cold, but not aggressive. A warning. As if merely standing here was breaking some rule I didn't understand.

My body tensed.

Slowly, I turned.

The first sensation was vertigo.

Not from the height, but because reality seemed to shift at its own pace, the air bending around me.

The woman standing before me shouldn't be here.

She was tall, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Sharp features. Eyes too dark to reflect the light. She wore gray, like she was made of shadows rather than flesh.

And the worst part…

She was identical to me.

My breath caught in my throat.

—What…?

She tilted her head.

—You shouldn't have followed him.

My mind refused to process what I was seeing. It couldn't.

—Who are you?—I whispered.

She didn't answer.

She just watched me.

And the longer I stood under her gaze, the more I felt… divided.

As if something inside me was pulling away, shifting in a direction I couldn't follow.

The bridge was no longer a bridge.

The water was no longer water.

Everything was an illusion, and it was starting to crumble.

—Go back—she said, with eerie calm—Before it's too late.

The pressure in my chest tightened.

—I don't understand.

—You don't have to. Just run.

My throat closed.

Behind her, the horizon cracked.

Like a mirror shattering from the center.

And for the first time, I felt pure, unfiltered terror.

Because something was about to break through those cracks.

Something I wasn't meant to see.

Something that shouldn't exist.

I ran.

Not because I understood.

But because every part of me screamed that I should.

And as the world collapsed around me, one last image burned into my mind:

The dark-eyed woman…

Watching me with infinite sadness.

As if she already knew that no matter how far I ran…

I would always come back.