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"There's this girl, and I'm drawn to her in ways I've never experienced before. I'm unsure if it's love, but one thing's certain - whenever sadness creeps in, or even on carefree days, her absence echoes within me. Separated by distance, she resides in a different state, and since I confessed my feelings, she's slowly drifted away, leaving me with a hollow ache."

"In the dream I had last night, she summoned me to her home through a time machine gadget - a small, mysterious device that transported me directly to her room when she recited a sequence of numbers. Her expression was subdued, neither sad nor happy, but her eyes betrayed a deep-seated fear. Just as I was about to envelop her in a tight hug, her mother entered the room, her presence sudden and unsettling.

"She didn't utter a word, nor did she shout or scold us. Instead, she silently ushered me to the living room, where her father and brother sat, accompanied by a man who might have been their neighbor. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension; no one addressed me, asked my name, or posed any questions. I took the initiative to introduce myself, but the silence was oppressive.

"The mother figure disappeared into the kitchen, where she began preparing something for me. Her sister emerged, while the girl I adore remained in her room, sitting listlessly. The aunt's questions were sparse, limited to my address, which I provided. But just as I thought the silence might dissipate, her father summoned her mother, his voice low and urgent, and she hastily departed, leaving me feeling bewildered and uneasy."

"I followed her mother out of the kitchen, my heart drawing me back to the girl I adore. I sat beside her, aching to wrap my arms around her. But instead, she intertwined our fingers, her touch sending shivers down my spine.

"'You always get sad, don't you?' she whispered, her eyes locked on mine. 'Because I don't talk to you every day, or even when I do, it's never for long.' Her voice was laced with a mix of sadness and longing.

"I sensed a flicker of fear in her eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. She squeezed my hand, her grip tightening. 'I want to talk to you, to share everything with you, but circumstances never allow us more than a few fleeting moments. It's not fair that you're the one who's always hurt. That's why I brought you here – to see me, to feel me, to know that I'm real.'

"Her smile was tinged with melancholy as she picked up the gadget. She placed my hand on it, and began to recite the numbers once more – the digits of her credit card. But before she could finish, her father appeared at the doorway, and she hastily tried to conceal me. Panic set her voice racing as she sped through the numbers, desperate to..."

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to be continue~

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