Personal Diary

  1st Day, unknown time and date.

  It was never as they describe in the stories. Isekai, waking up in another world, magic ticket, whatever you call it, but going down the rabbit hole and waking up in the body of a character from a story that you read is never, ever like they describe it.

  That was my reaction as I woke up in the body of Ross Boiler. Even the name screams TO BE IGNORED.

  Immediately, my first instinct was to go back to sleep. Try to wake up somewhere familiar, somewhere real. Not to scream or be confused, but to shake off the strangeness with the logic only sleep can give. Because when you find yourself in a different world, a different body, you always assume it's a dream.

  But this... this was a dream that refused to let me wake up.

  So I decided to go outside and see just how deep the rabbit hole goes. I hope that what's awaiting me is Wonderland and not something worse.

  I can dream about it, can't I?

  ---

  2nd Day, still no sense of time.

  I've never been one to panic, not outwardly at least, but when I stepped out into the world beyond that creaky door, I felt something... different. The kind of difference that makes your skin crawl, like you've stepped into a play you don't remember auditioning for. Everything felt slightly off. The air, the weight of my body, the sky—it was like reality was trying just a bit too hard to convince me it was real. And failing.

  I wandered through the woods today. At first, I wasn't afraid. Not of the woods, not of the night. I mean, if this is all a dream, what's there to fear?

  But then, I stumbled upon something I didn't expect: banshees. Yes, banshees, like straight out of a gothic nightmare. They were terrifying in theory—corpse-like apparitions, floating in tattered remnants of what used to be their lives. Their eyes glowed like coals, their mouths open in a silent scream. They gathered around me like vultures to a carcass.

  But I felt nothing. No fear, no terror. I kept walking, ignoring their whispers, their cold gazes. Like they weren't even there.

  And maybe, in that moment, they weren't. Maybe nothing here is.

  I know what you're thinking: how did I not scream? Why didn't I run? And the answer is simple. I didn't care. None of this feels real, not even the danger.

  But then I tripped. I hit my knee on a jagged rock, and the pain… the pain was real. It crawled up my leg like fire. And suddenly, the banshees' silent songs felt louder. The forest was darker. The air was heavier.

  For the first time, I wondered if I was wrong. What if this isn't a dream?

  I rummaged through my pockets. I wasn't sure what I was looking for—some clue, some sign that could anchor me. All I found was a small piece of candy.

  Of all the things to have on me, it's candy. I took a piece to calm myself down. Oddly enough, it helped.

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  After that, I walked back. Past the banshees. Past the things that had stared at me with hungry eyes, though this time they felt… closer. More real. But I didn't linger. I couldn't.

  When I got back to this room—my room—I locked the window, shut the door, and lit every light I could find. There's something about the dark now that unnerves me in a way I can't quite explain. The way shadows crawl and twist, how they seem to wait for the lights to go out.

  Then, I realized something strange. I looked at the candy again.

  It wasn't candy.

  It was anti-psychotic medication.

  ---

  3rd Day.

  Now I'm not sure what to believe. Is this world real, or am I living a delusion? Was my old life even real? Or was I always... broken?

  Was the leap from one life to the next a descent into madness, rather than a dream?

  I don't know. And I don't know why I keep hearing things in my head—my voice, but not my words. Just echoes.

  "A plague o' both your houses! I am sped!"

  That line. Why do I keep hearing it? Why Mercutio of all people? I was never that into Shakespeare—was I?

  But that's the thing, isn't it? I can't even remember clearly who I was. I remember things in flashes. Bits of trivia. Books I've read, lines I've once known, but nothing solid. I remember Mercutio, the witty side character who ends up dead too soon.

  Why does that feel like an omen?

  And why, when I think of it, does my heart pound with something more than dread?

  ---

  4th Day.

  The woods keep calling me.

  I don't know why, but every night since the banshees, I've felt something pulling at me, something deep within those trees.

  Maybe I should go back. Maybe I missed something.

  Or maybe...

  Maybe I should stay inside. Because every time I think of those woods, that same line drifts into my head again.

  "Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man."

  Mercutio said that as he was dying. A joke in the face of death. Was I always like that? Joking, even when the noose tightens?

  But I can't remember why I know these things. I can't even remember who I really was.

  And I don't know why that unsettles me more than anything else in this place.

  ---

  5th Day, and time still has no meaning.

  Today, I had a thought that chilled me to the bone. What if I wasn't just quoting Mercutio for no reason? What if this... sense of familiarity, of quoting lines from a character doomed to die early in the story, is a warning?

  What if I'm Ross Boiler for a reason?

  A name that screams TO BE IGNORED.

  A body that feels borrowed.

  What if I'm just the side character in someone else's story? A brief flash before the true hero arrives.

  If that's true... then what happens to me?

  What if this world is real, and I'm not meant to stay here?

  The thought leaves me hollow.

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