The Girl With The Iron Will

Deja Vu

"This is past addiction, this love is crack, the color of my heart is black."

BLACKPINK, Playing With Fire

***

My head jerked, jolting me awake. I looked up, my breaths shuddering out of my lips as I stared at the idle screen of my laptop, blinking away fragments of the dream as I tried to compose myself.

Why was he of all people in my dream?

My cheeks felt hot all of a sudden, although more to do with scandalized frustration than actual blushing.

He was not supposed to be in the dream. In fact, he wasn't supposed to be anywhere in my mind, but there you go.

This is what happens when you worry too much about running into him, I chided myself, getting back to the essay. He ends up coming back into your thoughts and now your dreams are ruined.

There are so many blondes out there; he just happened to be the one in today's dream. You can dream up some other guy in the next one.

All of a sudden, Kris' name came up.

I must be really affected today to even consider him as a candidate.

I shut my eyes. "You're really out of your mind," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head and thoughts clear.

It was only then did I realize the library had emptied, and that I was the only one at the study tables; everyone had left. Checking my watch, I was surprised to see that almost an hour had passed since I fell asleep, and that the library would close soon.

And here I promised Ma I'd go home early.

I glanced at my things, sighing. The Economics essay would have to wait, I decided, proceeding to shut down my laptop. Gathering all my things, I got up and went to the borrowing station to borrow the books and left the library with a mental to-do list.

Peak hour traffic will take about half an hour.

Heat up dinner in the microwave.

Read the materials, plot the statistical graphs, do that essay, prepare the slideshow for the class presentation.

All in a day's work.

I exited the library, and the doors slammed shut behind me. The sun was setting, and the lights in the school had yet to be switched on as I walked down the dim corridors. Slinging my bag higher on my shoulder, I quickened my steps, my sneakers making squealing sounds every now and then as it made contact with the floor.

I was holding one of the books in my hand, reading from it, when I realized that my voice seemed to echo across the silent walls.

I looked up. Was it just me or did it seem too...loud?

I turned into the next hallway, heading to the main building where the entrance was. Not a soul was in sight, adding to the eerie feeling of being watched.

I've watched too many high school horror films.

I turned at the next corner, and a shiver ran down my spine.

How did I end up here? I asked myself, staring down at the exact corridor from my dream.

I spotted the Art Room just four classrooms ahead, almost hypnotized as I pondered on the uncertain feelings my dream had given me.