I opened my eyes and found myself in a room with very luxurious interior decoration.
The blanket covering my body was made of linen with thread and covered with dragon carvings.
As far as I recall, I have never possessed such opulence. I only remember being at my workplace, a small boutique near my high school, and losing consciousness there.
So, where am I now? Am I dreaming?
I had no idea.
My eyes scanned the ceiling, questioning the strangeness I had just experienced.
Maybe this is just a dream, I thought as I closed my eyes.
I didn't think twice to go back to sleep.
Perhaps once I fell asleep, I'd find myself back in the real world.
For a moment, that was my plan.
But if I thought about it again, why should I rush back to the real world if I could enjoy this rare luxury?
So I decided to stay awake.
My hand brushed the smooth surface of the blanket.
I also realized that the clothes I was wearing were made of the finest velvet.
Ah, delightful. Everything felt so delightful.
I think I could stay in this dream forever if it meant I could enjoy this luxury and live this leisurely life whenever I wanted.
If this really is a dream, let me enjoy this luxury. For sixteen years, I've spent my life living in a slum, taking care of my two spoiled siblings.
My younger brother, Nathaniel, is always getting into trouble, so I'm constantly being called to the teachers' office.
Every time I ask him why, Nathaniel just turns away and avoids my questions.
Eventually, I gave up asking.
Maybe he had his own reasons, so I decided to let it go.
As for my younger sister, Patricia, she was extremely lazy and spoiled.
She spent all her time in her bedroom and had no friends.
She couldn't even do household chores.
Despite her bad behavior, she was a genius.
So she didn't have to spend a single penny because the school was willing to cover her expenses as long as she chose the school.
Meanwhile, I was just an ordinary teenage boy who spent my time taking over my mother's household chores. Both my mother and father work, but their salaries are still not enough to support all of us.
That was why I decided to take a part-time job after graduating from junior high school so I could continue on to high school.
I knew they'd been working hard, and I did not want to burden them any further.
It was also why I didn't tell them that I was being bullied at school. I always made up excuses whenever they asked.
So it was safe to say my life is far from enjoyable. But at least, my family did not have any debt.
That was what mattered most.
I feel grateful that at least I was born into a very warm family, even though we aren't wealthy.
I could not even remember the last time I could rest peacefully without being interrupted by my younger siblings or having to deal with bugs and springs poking out of my mattress.
I had no choice but to compromise with the used mattress my father got from a friend who worked at a waste processing center.
Even then, I had to share that mattress with my younger brother and my father.
So imagine how cramped that king-size mattress must be for three people. It's very unpleasant.
"I heard he's here. Is he okay?"
"I don't know. He hasn't regained consciousness yet."
From outside the room, I heard people talking in serious tones. I didn't know what they were saying, and I didn't know what was happening.
So, I pretend to go back to sleep while assessing the situation. For a dream, it felt so real.
"Let me check his condition first. His wounds are quite severe, and the poison is eating away at his body cells. It's a miracle he made it through the critical phase."
The sound of the door opening wide, along with footsteps, echoed throughout the room. I continued to pretend to be asleep.
"His complexion doesn't look good."
As he said this, the voice's owner moved closer to me. I was overcome with anxiety. I didn't know who this person was, but their presence made my heart race.
And I was not lying when I said that the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
The last time I found myself in this situation was when I was in first grade and faced my super strict math teacher, who called me to the front of the class to solve a math problem.
I remember it very clearly. My elementary school teacher was a stern woman, and her brow was always furrowed in anger whenever she looked at her students.
Thanks to the negative influence of this teacher, even now I still feel uncomfortable in math class.
I am traumatized by anything related to numbers.
That was how tense the situation I was facing right now.
Seriously. For a dream, why did it feel so real?
The man was now muttering a phrase I don't understand. I was tempted to peek, but my intuition tells me to stay—
Urgh!!
Pain hits my head hard, like being stabbed by thousands of needles at the same time.
My eyes opened automatically and I screamed in pain. My entire body was shaking violently, and I felt like I wanted to vomit from the intensity of the pain.
In my mind, I found many memories.
Memories that were clearly not mine.
Memories belonging to someone I didn't know, flashing into my mind quickly.
"AARRGHH!!!"
It was too painful!
I woke up, ignoring the person standing beside me, holding my aching head. Cold sweat covered my body.
Why didn't I wake up?
If this were a dream, I should have woken up from it and been in my bed, holding my head that didn't hurt.
Then I would sit on my bed, breathing a sigh of relief, realizing that everything I experienced was just a dream.
"I told you... He can't be trusted."
Memories that weren't mine kept playing in my mind.
In those memories, I was facing strangers dressed in European aristocratic clothing.
I was facing a man with hazelnut-brown hair and eyes full of regret.
"You killed my mother. So why should I let you live in comfort? I'll make your life a living hell!"
This time, a girl around fourteen years old, the same age as my younger sister.
She was wearing noble attire with her hair neatly tied up, glaring at me while crossing her arms.
The pain grew more intense until my hands finally clutched the blanket.
In my heart, I kept telling myself that this was part of a dream. That it wasn't real.
I had to wake up from this dream before I made my family worry.
"Don't try to resist it. Resisting will only make the pain worse."
***