"See you on the other side, Edward... The Child of Prophecy. May you survive the ordeal."
My body froze.
The words echoed through my mind like a thunderclap in a silent room.
The Child of Prophecy?Survive the ordeal?
I blinked. My heart pounded like it was trying to escape my chest.
What the hell did he mean by that?
Whipping my head to the side, I turned to question him — but the bench was empty.
No trace of the old man.No cane. No cap. Nothing.
Just the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind and the distant sound of a child's laughter. The same laughter from moments ago… now it felt far away, like it belonged to another world entirely.
A cold shiver crawled down my spine.
I stared at the empty spot beside me, struggling to make sense of what had just happened.
"Was I... imagining him?" I muttered, scanning the park.
But there was no one like him in sight. Not strolling away, not blending into the crowd. He had vanished — completely. Like he was never there to begin with.
I rubbed my temples, trying to ground myself.
Maybe it was stress.Maybe I was hallucinating — from exhaustion, burnout, guilt.I hadn't exactly been kind to my mental health lately.
But those words… they rang too clear. Too deliberate."The Child of Prophecy."
That's not something your brain just fabricates when you're running low on sleep and high on academic trauma.
I leaned back on the bench.
That's when it hit me.The air had changed. Sharper. Heavier. The breeze no longer soothed — it stung.Somewhere above the trees, a faint ringing buzzed in my ears — almost like a voice, half-formed, retreating into silence.
Did he… call me by name?
I never introduced myself. Not even once.
There's no way he should've known who I was — let alone said something that sounded like it was ripped straight from a fantasy novel.
I shut my eyes tightly, trying to shake the tension building in my chest.
Nope. Not doing this.Not letting some vanishing old man start a mental spiral.I've got enough existential dread without adding "prophecy nonsense" to the mix.
And yet… I couldn't shake it.
His final words wouldn't leave me.
"May you survive the ordeal."
What ordeal?
And why did it feel like he knew something… I didn't?
I sat there, frozen for several more minutes. Then, with a shaky breath, I stood up and started walking home.
For some reason… I hesitated in front of the gate.
Just a moment.
Like stepping inside would confirm something.That I had failed. That I was no longer "hopeful" — just lost.But my feet moved anyway.
By the time I realized it, I was already standing in front of my house — my legs having guided me home on autopilot.
I opened the front door and stepped inside.
"I'm home, Mom!"
"Ohh! You're back, Edy. Go wash your hands and come eat."
"Hmm."
I washed my hands and headed toward the dinner table. Just then, I looked up — and saw her smile.
That same, familiar smile.
So Pure. So Warm.
So undeserved.
Unlike the world outside, her smile didn't come with conditions or expectations.There was no pity. No disappointment.Just love. Quiet and unshaken.
And it hurt.
Don't.Don't smile at me like that.It's… it's too much.It hurts.
I clenched my fist behind my back and forced a small smile in return before sitting at the table.
My father sat at the head, his posture straight, his presence commanding even in silence. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and his sharp jawline made him look sterner than he really was. He wore his years well, though the lines on his forehead had deepened since I'd started preparing for the exams. His expression was as unreadable as ever.
He gave a small nod. That was it.
No words. No scolding. Just a quiet nod — the kind that left more questions than comfort.
I lowered my gaze and began eating in silence, shrinking into myself, trying to take up as little space as possible — as if I could vanish if I just stayed still enough.
I couldn't look at either of them.
I didn't know why.
…Or maybe I did.And I just didn't want to face it.
My heartbeat roared in my ears, drowning out the clatter of dishes. It beat so violently, I half-expected my chest to burst — or for someone to notice and ask,"What's wrong?"
But no one did.And maybe that silence scared me more than any prophecy ever could.
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{A.N:- Words of Wisdom from this Kind Author
"Worrying doesn't take away tomorrow's troubles—it only steals today's peace. We convince ourselves that by turning problems over and over in our minds, we're somehow preparing for what's to come. But in truth, all we're doing is draining the strength we need to face those challenges when they arrive. Tomorrow will bring what it brings, whether we agonize over it or not. But today—today is a gift we sacrifice every time we choose fear over presence, anxiety over acceptance. Peace doesn't come from having all the answers. It comes from learning to live fully in the moments we have, not the ones we're afraid might come."}