"I'm so tired already," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the silent room. The weight of his emotions pressed down on him, suffocating and unrelenting. He could feel the tears welling up again, but he was too drained to cry anymore.
Eventually, he fell asleep as the first light of dawn filtered through the window.
"Wakey, wakey," Nick said, shaking Milo gently.
"You're home early," Milo mumbled.
"Yeah, I have class. How about you? Hey, what happened to your eyes?" Nick asked, noticing the redness.
Milo got up from his bed. "Well, I was tired last night," he said, avoiding eye contact.
"Oh, okay. Hope you're okay. There's your breakfast on the table. Gotta go," Nick said, grabbing his bag.
"Be careful," Milo replied, trying to muster a smile.
He looked at his schedule. No class today. He closed his eyes, but haunting images came flooding back. "Ahhhh," he groaned, getting out of bed and fixing himself up.
Not knowing what else to do, he went to the park again and sat watching birds, his mind a fog of swirling thoughts.
"It seems you are thinking too deeply there, young man," a voice said.
Milo looked up and saw an old man standing before him.
"Can I sit with you here?" the old man asked.
"Sure," Milo said, moving his sling bag.
"It will pass," the old man said suddenly.
"Hmmm?" Milo responded, surprised.
"Whatever your problem is right now, it will pass," the old man said calmly.
"Oh, yeah, but right now it stings," Milo admitted, his voice shaky.
"Then let it sting. You know it's one of the results of your actions, right?" the old man asked gently.
"Yeah, I did. Maybe I always knew this would happen," Milo said, remembering his parents' fights and how he should've kept his distance from Eska and rejected Jennifer in the first place. "I just thought if the time came, I'd be ready to handle it."
"Hahaha, well, that's life," the old man chuckled.
"Heh, maybe it is," Milo said with a half-smile.
"But you were happy, right?" the old man asked.
Milo thought about the times when his family was loving, admiring Eska from afar, and even his moments with Jennifer. A smirk formed on his face. "I actually was."
"Hahaha, we all want these things not to happen to us, but they already did and we can't change that," the old man said wisely. "So let's just tell ourselves that it's the price we have to pay. Because in the first place, happiness is priceless."
"Whoo, it's getting cold," the old man said, standing up and stretching. "Anyway..."
"Hmm?" Milo looked up at him, curiosity piqued.
"Don't let it destroy you," the old man said, his voice kind yet firm. "Mourn, sure, but don't mourn forever. Especially you young people, full of dreams. It would be a waste crying and being sad in your 20s, ahahahha."
"Hahahaa, you're right. Uh, sir?"
"Oh, I'm Mr. Benjamin."
"I'm Milo," Milo said, shaking the old man's hand.
"Milo, don't be too hard on yourself, boy," Mr. Benjamin said, noticing the sadness in Milo's eyes. "It will pass," he added, giving Milo a reassuring pat on the shoulder before walking away.
Milo sat there feeling a bit lighter. The park was alive with birds chirping and leaves rustling. The sunlight filtered through trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. For the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope.
Milo looked at the sky, closing his eyes. The warmth of the sun washed over him, and he felt a sense of peace. A smile slowly spread across his face, despite the images still lingering in his mind.
"So what should I do right now?" he wondered. "Right, dream. What's my dream again?" He opened his eyes as cherry blossoms appeared in his mind. "Right, travel!" He smiled, his steps quickening with newfound determination.
"I need to fix my exam results," he thought. "Next, I need to eat more." The thoughts of those people still lingered in his mind.
"AHHAHAHHA," he chuckled to himself, drawing curious looks from people.
The next morning, Milo was in a better mood, though he claimed it was just his schedule. After breakfast, he headed to school.
As he walked, the city bustled around him. He passed protesters demanding justice and peace, their voices mixing with street vendors' shouts and city noise. News scrolls caught his attention: "Son of billionaire Robert Sy missing after car crash!"
"Huh, he might have been kidnapped or transported to another world," Milo mused, a hint of humor in his thoughts. "Yeah, I should stop watching Isekai," he chuckled to himself.
Another scroll read: "War erupts in neighboring country. Our allies call for unity." Milo felt a chill run down his spine. "I will curse this world if World War III happens in my lifetime," he thought as he continued walking.
Milo kept walking, taking in the sights and sounds. He saw a father and daughter holding hands, bringing a bittersweet smile to his face as he thought of his own father.
He decided to call him, but there was no answer.
"LOOK OUT!!!" a man suddenly shouted.
Milo turned to see a car speeding toward him, its driver asleep at the wheel. Time slowed as Milo stood frozen, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind—his father, his friends, his unfulfilled dreams.
Then impact.
Milo lay on the cold pavement, blood pooling around him. His vision blurred as a little girl cried out, "Call an ambulance! Help this kid!"
As his consciousness faded, he thought about the people in his life: Nick, probably still sleeping; his mom, likely with her new partner; his dad, asleep and unaware; Jennifer with her new boyfriend; and Eska with her man.
"Damn it! Damn it!" his thoughts screamed. "It hurts! Someone, help me. Am I going to die here? I DON'T WANNA DIE!!"
A woman knelt beside him, holding his hand. "It's going to be okay, just hang in there," she said, her voice trembling.
As the world faded, Milo felt tears roll down his cheeks. He remembered Eska's smile. "In another life, I guess," he whispered as he slipped into darkness.
Milo Martinez, 18 years old, passed away on July 7, 2024.
In their house, the air was thick with sorrow. Milo's mother wailed by the casket, "Milo, why did you die? I'm sorry, I'm sorry mom wasn't there." Her relatives gently pulled her away, their own eyes red from crying.
Milo's father stood at the door, calm and stoic, welcoming everyone with lifeless eyes. Inside, his heart was torn apart.
Nick sat in Milo's room, staring blankly at the walls, unable to express his grief.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted as Jennifer, Milo's ex-girlfriend, arrived. Nick confronted her angrily, "What are you doing here?"
"I loved him once," Jennifer said, her voice trembling.
Nick slapped her, "You cheated on my friend!" he spat. "You left him devastated for weeks, and then just texted to break up. After that, we saw you with a new man."
Eska watched from a distance, shocked to learn Milo had a girlfriend.
Later, Nick approached Eska. "Where's your boyfriend?" he asked.
"We broke up," she admitted.
They talked, and Nick revealed something that made Eska's eyes widen in shock. She stepped back, face pale, hands shaking. She sank to her knees sobbing as Nick knelt beside her.
At the funeral, rain competed with people's wails. Milo's mother's heart-wrenching cry pierced the air as relatives pulled her from the casket. Mr. Romeo, wearing shades to hide his eyes, remained stoic as a pallbearer. Nick cried, "Buddy, I'm gonna miss you."
Eska approached the casket. "You should have told me," she whispered, placing a flower gently.
Afterward, Mr. Romeo was left alone in the empty house. To mask his sorrow, he busied himself cleaning, his thoughts consumed by regret.
"If I could," he thought, remembering their meals together without communication. He scrubbed harder. "If I could," he thought, recalling the nights spent drinking while Milo felt abandoned. "If I could," he thought, remembering Milo's call before he died—a call he was too drunk to answer.
The weight of regret overwhelmed him. He cried so loudly the neighbors could hear.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I should have been a better father. If I knew those were our last times together, I would have cherished them."
He cried until he had no tears left, his body shaking with each sob.
Milo couldn't move. Darkness surrounded him.
"So this is the end," he thought. "Where's the light? Or fire?"
He waited, but nothing changed. "Wait, this must be a dream," he thought. He tried closing his eyes tightly, then opening them.
When he opened them, something was different. "Where am I? I can't move or speak! My hands are so small!" Then realization struck: "I'm reincarnated! Thank you, God. I'll continue my dream here!"
Milo found himself as an infant in a church with other orphans. "No luck with parents again," he thought. "Regardless, I'll thrive in this world; I'll explore everything!"
While he celebrated internally, voices around him shouted, "We won! We won!" An elderly lady picked him up, exclaiming, "Rethrus!"
"We won the battle against Avaloria Kingdom this time!" she clarified, tossing Milo in the air.
Milo's new body felt fragile, yet his mind was sharp with memories from his past life. The joy of victory echoed around him, but uncertainty remained.
"What kind of world have I been reborn into?" he wondered.
His small eyes widened, and he started to cry as realization hit him—he was now a baby in a world at war.
"Oh, what's wrong, Rethrus?" the sister asked gently. "We won a battle and you're crying. That's a bad sign."
"Why now," Milo shouted in his mind, determined to make the most of this second chance, even in a world of conflict and uncertainty.