A boy sat in the middle of an endless black space.
Darkness stretched on forever — a void without walls, without ground, without sky. Yet the boy's presence was illuminated, as though a lone spotlight hung above him, announcing him to nothingness.
Julie blinked.
Her breath caught.
She couldn't believe her eyes.
A familiar figure — one she would never forget, even if the world itself tried to erase him.
"Kevin!!" she called out, her voice ringing with raw joy.
She ran toward him without hesitation, unbothered by the strange space. Her feet made no sound as they moved across the groundless void, but she didn't care.
Why should she?
Right now, the person before her was all that mattered.
Her peace.
Her world.
Her happiness.
Her joy.
Everything revolved around him.
So why should the place of their reunion matter?
She reached him and grabbed his shoulder from behind, clutching tightly — as though afraid he might disappear if she loosened her grip.
"Oh, Kevin…" Her breath came ragged. "…I missed you so much. I'm sorry. I won't ever say—"
Her words died in her throat.
She turned him around.
Her eyes widened.
Her jaw dropped.
Then her teeth clenched violently — so hard she tasted blood — as a broken sob tore out of her chest.
The figure before her was Kevin.
From head to toe, he was exactly as she remembered.
Everything except his face.
Where it should have been was nothing.
Blank.
Blurred.
Unfinished.
As though reality itself had refused to complete him.
His features glitched subtly, warping and dissolving like a corrupted image — an anomaly that seemed to anger the very fabric of existence.
Julie collapsed to her knees.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as heavy sobs echoed through the void.
Then—
She jolted upright.
Her chest rose and fell violently as air rushed back into her lungs.
It was just a dream.
"Jesus…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Her cheeks felt warm.
Wet.
She lifted a hand to her face and froze.
Tears.
Julie turned her head toward the old clock mounted high on the wall of the children's room.
3:45 a.m.
Fifteen minutes before her morning routine was meant to begin.
"I guess I'd forgotten…" she murmured, tears still flowing in uncontrollable waves. "…and the universe decided to remind me."
When Julie first woke from the fifteen-year-long dream, she had realized something horrifying.
No matter how hard she tried — no matter how desperately she searched her memory — Kevin's face was gone.
Erased.
Wiped clean.
Deleted — as if the universe itself had chosen to punish her.
She remembered his voice.
His height.
The way he spoke.
The way he stood.
But his face?
Nothing.
She had tried to bury the pain, drown it beneath routine and responsibility. But it was always there.
Waiting.
Waiting for a trigger.
A tearless smile tugged weakly at her lips as her shoulders shook.
Guilt.
Regret.
Loneliness.
Her own emotions — the ones she thought she had locked away — surged violently.
She wailed inwardly, biting down on her lip, forcing the sound to remain trapped in her chest.
She didn't want to wake anyone.
Minutes passed before she finally gathered the strength to stop.
Her gaze drifted across the room, settling on the children scattered across beds and mats, tangled in innocent sleep.
[…Crying won't solve anything.]
[…All I have to do is make sure I meet him again.]
She wiped her tears slowly.
"And then…" she whispered, barely audible, "…I won't be lonely anymore."
Julie stood up.
She straightened her clothes, steadied her breathing, and began her morning routine — as though her heart hadn't just been torn open all over again.
LATER THAT DAY — JULIE'S SCHOOL
BREAK PERIOD
"…competitions?" Gift blinked in confusion, tiny specks of food still clinging to her lips as she walked beside Julie. She liked eating a lot — which explained her chubby, adorable build.
"Yes, GiGi… competitions," Julie said, stopping to gently wipe the grease from the girl's mouth.
"Mm… but the teacher didn't say anything about competitions," Gift complained, rubbing her lips.
"Just listen to me, okay?" Julie said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "…Two years from now, there'll be a school competition for elementary students. And three years after that, a spelling bee."
She paused, a confident smile tugging at her lips as she released her grip.
"…And the two of us are going to win first place in both."
"Huh?! First place?!" Gift gasped. "Umm… I don't think I could— I mean, I don't think I could really get first place."
"We'll win for sure. Just trust your dearest friend," Julie replied with a playful smirk, lifting her chin proudly as she continued toward the classroom.
"Wow… Julie, the smartest girl in the whole Better Academy is my friend. Of course I'll join her!" Gift said in admiration as she hurried after her.
[…I couldn't have asked for a better partner. She agreed without a second thought. Others might call her gullible — but I know it's just her pure nature.]
A sense of accomplishment washed over Julie.
"But Julie…" Gift called softly.
"Yes, GiGi?"
"How did you know about the future competitions? Are you a pwoofet?" Gift asked, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Pfft—" Julie laughed. "You mean prophet?"
"…I'm not a prophet. I just—"
Slam!!
Julie suddenly tripped.
Her body lurched forward, palms slamming hard against the rough concrete as she tried to break the fall.
"Julie!" Gift rushed to her side. "Are you okay? What happened—"
"Well, well," a familiar voice interrupted from behind, dripping with mockery. "Looks like the witch is finally close to where she belongs."
"Miracle?" Julie called, lifting her head. Her knees stung — scraped from the fall.
Miracle approached with two girls at her side, a smug grin plastered across her face.
"Where do witches belong again, guys?" she asked sweetly.
"Na for coven na," one girl replied.
"Yes… inside hell fire," the other added.
[…Is this some kind of revenge?]
Julie stood with Gift's help. This was deliberate. Childish revenge.
And as an adult — mentally — Julie knew she had to be the bigger person.
She stepped forward.
"Look, Mimy… I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have shouted at you back then, especially in front of everyone. I'm really sorry."
"Well, you should be," Miracle hissed. "And when I finish dealing with you, eh… 'sorry' go be your name."
"Please, can we just forget about—"
Slap!!
The sound cracked through the air.
Julie staggered as Miracle's palm struck her face.
Gift gasped and rushed forward.
"A daughter of a witch like you no get right to tell me wetin I go do!" Miracle shouted.
"Miracle!" Gift cried, stepping between them. "I'm reporting you to the teacher!"
"You stupid little—"
Miracle raised her hand again.
It was caught mid-air.
Julie's grip tightened around her wrist.
Julie didn't care about the insults. Or the pranks.
But touching Gift?
That crossed a line.
"Miracle… listen carefully," Julie said quietly.
The air shifted.
"I don't care what you do to me. But if you ever try to hurt Gift—"
Something snapped.
The rage.
The fear.
The greed.
The envy.
The hate.
Every emotion in the vicinity surged violently.
Julie lost focus.
"I will never forgive you!!"
Her scream wasn't just sound.
It was a command.
The emotions rushed into Miracle.
"AAARGH!!"
She screamed as they flooded her mind all at once.
Guilt.
Regret.
Boiling rage.
Scorching hate.
Envy.
Jealousy.
Greed.
An overwhelming wave of pure—
Emotion.
—To Be Continued.