Chapter 1: The First Crack
Risha was the kind of girl people called “sorted.”
A stable corporate job, a decent routine, a family that never had to worry about her. She wasn’t extraordinary—but she wasn’t failing either. Somewhere in between, she existed.
She had dreams once. Big ones. The kind that kept you awake at night.
But life happened.
Deadlines replaced ambitions. Comfort replaced risk. And slowly, without even realizing it, she became someone who waited more than she acted.
Lazy, she would call herself sometimes.
Responsible, others would say.
And maybe both were true.
Because Risha wasn’t careless—she just never pushed hard enough to change anything. Not because she couldn’t… but because everything around her felt just fine. Not perfect. Not broken. Just… fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Because the nights had started to feel different.
Her sleep was still deep, untouched, peaceful on the surface.
But somewhere inside it—
Something was shifting.
And one dream was all it took… to make her question if her life was ever really as normal as she believed.
Risha never had trouble sleeping.
No overthinking. No late-night spirals. No restless turning from one side to another. The moment her head touched the pillow, her world simply… switched off.
It was the only part of her life that felt completely in control.
That night felt no different.
The fan hummed softly above her, her phone screen dimmed into silence, and the familiar weight of routine wrapped around her like comfort. Another day done. Another day just like the last.
She closed her eyes.
And slipped into sleep.
—
She was back in school.
Not as a child—but not quite as the person she was now either. It felt… peaceful. Familiar faces, distant laughter, conversations that didn’t demand anything from her.
For a moment, everything felt lighter.
Simpler.
As if life had quietly undone itself.
A familiar voice cut through the noise—a guy from her class casually mentioning her corporate life, how she was working in a big company, stable job, “almost impressive,” he said.
Risha smiled faintly. Not because she fully felt it—but because, in that moment, it sounded true. As if she had made it. As if everything had quietly fallen into place exactly as it was supposed to.
Because the next moment—
She was by the sea.
The transition didn’t feel strange. Nothing in the dream did.
She stood with her friends, and a few unfamiliar faces who somehow belonged there. The ocean stretched endlessly, calm and inviting. Without hesitation, they stepped into the water—diving, swimming, laughing.
Like it wasn’t their first time.
Like it was routine.
Risha felt it too—that strange sense of normalcy.
Until the waves changed.
At first, it was subtle.
Then it wasn’t.
Far in the distance, the ocean began to rise. Not like ordinary waves—but something heavier, slower, unnatural. The horizon bent under its weight.
A silence fell.
Someone whispered about tsunami signals.
And just like that, the air shifted.
Risha stepped back instinctively, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t name. Around her, confusion spread—some people moving, some frozen, some pretending it was nothing.
“It’s probably just a big wave,” someone said casually.
But the ocean didn’t agree.
Still, instead of leaving, Risha found herself walking toward a building near the shore. A few boys went ahead, and she followed without questioning why.
It wasn’t her office.
It wasn’t even familiar.
But it felt like she had to be there.
Inside, the air was different. Heavier. Quieter.
And then—
The wind roared.
A sudden, violent rush against the walls. The windows rattled. The sound of the ocean grew louder, closer, angrier.
Risha turned toward the door.
But she was too late.
The outside had changed.
The waves were no longer distant—they were everywhere.
And she was trapped.
Her heartbeat quickened as she stepped back, her breath uneven now. The room felt smaller, tighter, like it was closing in with every passing second.
Then something flickered.
A large screen lit up on the wall.
CCTV footage.
Risha’s eyes fixed on it.
What she saw didn’t feel real.
The sky was no longer a sky—it was a storm alive. Dark clouds twisted violently, stretching higher and higher, as if they were trying to swallow everything below. Lightning tore through it, sharp and blinding.
A cyclone.
Massive. Unstoppable.
Beautiful in the most terrifying way.
The camera captured it all—the sea rising, the wind screaming, the world bending under something far beyond control.
Risha couldn’t move.
She wasn’t just watching it.
She felt like she was meant to see it.
As if this wasn’t just a disaster.
As if this was a warning.
—
Risha woke up.
Her eyes snapped open, her breath uneven, heart pounding louder than it should.
The room was quiet.
Still.
Normal.
The fan hummed above her like nothing had happened.
She stared at the ceiling, trying to steady her breathing.
“It was just a dream,” she whispered to herself.
And for a moment—
She believed it.
