Chapter 1: A Reality Slap
"Look on the bright side."
His father said those words so often they became a family joke.
For years, Lark never had a reason to doubt them.
His father could solve almost any problem with a single phone call. His mother worried enough for the entire household. His little sister treated him like the greatest person alive, following him everywhere despite his endless complaints.
He had good friends and a "decent" reputation at school.
If anything, he had been the kind of person others disliked. He wasn’t a saint. If someone annoyed him enough, he’d make sure they regretted it. Whether it was through words or fists in the gut depended on his mood.
Looking back, he wondered if that was why reality chose him.
To remind him that it could bully far better than he ever could.
The day of his graduation was supposed to be a celebration. His father drove while his mother sat beside him, endlessly talking about university and the future. His little sister had stayed home with a caretaker since she was still too young to appreciate ceremonies that lasted hours.
He barely remembered the crash.
Only the deafening horn and his mother’s scream.
Then metal folding like paper.
...
When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed.
His parents were gone. A truck had slammed into them, or so they said. But somehow, he survived.
Sometimes he wondered if they had been reincarnated somewhere, starting another life while he remained trapped in this one.
The doctors called it a miracle.
The miracle was that everything below his neck had forgotten how to move, except his hands.
Seems like fate wanted him alive just enough to suffer.
The first few months were filled with relatives, friends from school, classmates filling the hospital with flowers and empty promises.
"We’ll visit every day."
"Don’t worry, you’ll recover."
"We’ll always be here."
They disappeared one by one.
Some stopped answering messages, even dared to leave him on read. People he thought he was close to simply forgot about him.
One classmate even posted online.
> Karma finally caught him.
He stared at the screen for a long time before quietly deleting the app.
Maybe they were right. It was his karma, or the world is simply taking back all the kindness it had offered him at first.
Maybe they weren’t.
Either way...nobody came anymore, except one person.
His sister.
She was seventeen now, and he was twenty-seven.
She visited after school every single day without fail. She studied beside him, complained about teachers or simply sat there in silence.
Oddly enough...
The room wasn’t empty anymore.
...
His fingers tapped against his phone, a blank document filled the screen.
Four years ago he would’ve laughed if someone told him he’d become a novelist.
Books had been something he associated with people who had too much imagination and too little sense.
Then paralysis happened.
With nothing else to do, he’d started reading to pass the time. One novel became ten. Ten became a hundred. Eventually he’d read almost everything he could find.
Some were amazing. Most weren’t, but he read them anyway.
He’d muttered while reading something mediocre that made him want to gag and applause at the same time.
"I could probably write something better than half of these."
It was arrogance. Maybe.
So he tried and to his surprise...People actually liked it.
His novel, Extra to Villain, had climbed far beyond anything Lark imagined.
The income paid the hospital bills and helped with his sister’s education. It gave him a reason to wake up each morning.
Ironically...
The thing that kept him alive was something his younger self would’ve mocked relentlessly.
A notification appeared.
Chapter uploaded successfully.
He let out a quiet breath. Right on schedule.
The door burst open.
"Brother!"
A familiar voice echoed through the room.
A girl rushed inside carrying enough energy to power the entire hospital.
Brown hair swayed wildly as she stopped beside his bed, smiling so brightly it almost hurt to look at.
"Writer from the Abyss just uploaded!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn’t you greet your brother first?"
Her smile froze.
"I... um..."
"So my little sister loves some random author more than her own brother."
"I-I don’t!"
She puffed out her cheeks in embarrassment. "I just got excited..."
A laugh escaped him. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair.
"I was teasing."
She pouted. "You always tease me."
He chuckled. "It builds character."
He smiled looking at her.
She was talking back again. That meant she hadn’t been worrying too much today.
She noticed the phone beside him.
"Were you reading?"
"Mhm."
She pulled a chair beside him. "Come on."
"What?"
"Let’s read the new Chapter together."
He smiled. "As you command."
...
Nearly twenty minutes later...
She clutched her phone to her chest.
"The heroine is definitely going to fall for him."
"You’ve said that about four different girls."
"This one’s different."
She glared. "You have terrible taste."
"I think yours is worse."
She gasped dramatically. "I take back every nice thing I’ve ever done for you."
"You’ve never said anything nice."
"..."
"..."
"...Okay, fair."
They laughed.
Then he looked at her school uniform.
"You know...Sara,"
"Hm?" She frowned hearing her name directly.
"You don’t have to spend every afternoon here." Lark said, serious.
"I know."
"You should go out more." He continued, "Meet friends."
"No."
"Maybe get a boyfriend."
"No."
He sighed. But before he could continue she folded her arms and spoke.
"I’ll do what I want."
"And what you want is wasting your youth babysitting your brother?"
Her expression hardened. "I said..."
She stood up and walked towards the wheelchair. "...I’ll do what I want."
Before he could argue further, she carefully helped him into it with practised movements.
"We’re going outside."
He knew better than to resist.
Not that he could.
The cool afternoon breeze brushed against his face as they left the hospital.
It had been years since he had felt something so simple.
His sister walked quietly behind him, pushing the wheelchair along the pavement.
The silence between them wasn’t awkward. She had long since learned that he enjoyed listening more than speaking, and he had learned that she talked only when she had something worth saying.
Children laughed in the distance, a couple walked past them holding hands, and a group his age wandered around laughing.
"..."
He smiled bitterly.
"Brother." She whispered. "Do you regret it?"
He blinked. "Regret what?"
"Everything."
Her voice was unusually quiet. "The accident... your life... us..."
He looked ahead.
People crossed the streets without a second thought.
"I used to."
His answer surprised even himself. "I kept asking why it happened."
"I hated everyone."
"My friends, my relatives, most of all...myself."
"I even hated you sometimes."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
His sister froze. "...Really?"
"Because every time you smiled..." He let out a quiet laugh. "...it reminded me how pathetic I had become."
She lowered her head. "I’m sorry..."
"Don’t apologise. If anyone deserves one..."
He looked down at his motionless body.
"...It’s probably you."
She never got to enjoy high school.
Every afternoon...wasted with him in the hospital.
Every weekend...Hospital.
Every holiday...Hospital.
It wasn’t him who had been chained to that room...It was her.
"You know..., If I could walk again..."
"I’d probably start by running."
She giggled.
"Running?"
"Far away from hospitals."
"I thought you’d say you’d beat someone up."
"I’ve matured."
"Don’t lie."
"...Maybe a little."
She laughed louder this time.
The red light glowed overhead, people gathering beside them waiting for the green sign.
A strange uneasiness settled over him, as though something was wrong.
He frowned. "Sis."
She didn’t answer.
"Sis?"
Her hands gripping the wheelchair had begun trembling.
His expression changed. "...Are you okay?"
A drop of water landed on the back of his hand. She was crying.
His heart skipped.
He slowly turned his head.
Her face was hidden beneath strands of brown hair, her shoulders shaking violently.
"...Hey." he frowned, "What happened?"
Another tear fell.
"I’m..." Her voice cracked. "...sorry."
His brows knitted together.
"Sorry for wha..." Before the words could leave his mouth...
The hands behind the wheelchair shoved forward.
His body lurched as the world tilted.
Tyres screamed.
A horn exploded through the air.
Time slowed.
He saw her.
Standing behind the crossing.
Hands stretched toward him.
Not trying to save him.
Trying to reach him.
Then...the world shattered into pain.