I Almost Died, So Now I Only Eat Junk Food

Jonah found himself spinning effortlessly across the gleaming floor of a dance studio. He did not know how he got there, his mind was of any worries, judgements, clear.The air felt light, filled with the soft hum of piano music. Mirrors lined the walls, reflecting his every movement—arms outstretched, feet gliding with precision. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt weightless. Free.

His heart pounded, but not from fear. From joy. The kind of joy he hadn't felt since…

"Good, Jonah!" his mother's voice echoed faintly, warm and encouraging. "You're a natural."

He smiled. The polished wood beneath his feet, the rhythm guiding his body—it all felt right. Here, he wasn't broken or wrong. He was exactly who he wanted to be.

But then, the music faltered. A sour note. The mirrors seemed to ripple, the once-bright room dimming.

"Jonah."

The voice echoed like a crack in glass. Jonah froze mid-pirouette. The room seemed to darken at the edges.

"Jonah!"

Louder this time, harsh and cold. 

The mirrors shattered.

Suddenly, the polished floor morphed into scuffed linoleum. Cold, gray walls closed in around him. The soft music twisted into the shrill blast of a whistle. He was back—military school.

Figures loomed. Instructors in stiff uniforms surrounded him, faces hard and unforgiving.

"Disgraceful!" one bellowed.

"Soft. Weak. What kind of man dances?" another spat.

Jonah stumbled back, clutching his head as the voices multiplied, overlapping accusations. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the walls seemed to press closer.No. Not here. Not now.

"Stand up straight!"

Two towering figures in uniform appeared before him, their faces shadowed but voices unmistakable.

"Pathetic."

"Weak."

Jonah backed away, his breath quickening. The walls seemed to close in. The cold concrete floor felt like it would swallow him whole. He could hear his own ragged breathing echo in the sterile room.

"You embarrassed your father."

"You're a disgrace."

"No," Jonah whispered. "Stop. I didn't—"

The walls transform once again and he's now facing a familiar space.

My bedroom?

"No son of mine!" his father's voice roared across from him.

The ground seemed to quake beneath him. His breath quickened. His fathers voice continued—low, relentless. You're broken. You'll never be enough.

"Jonah!"

A new voice. Different. Urgent.

"Snap out of it!"

Jonah blinked. The his fathers figure blurred. The walls shifted again.

When his vision cleared, two familiar faces stared at him—Kai and Nico.

"Yo, you with us now?" Kai asked, arms crossed but concern flickering in his eyes.

Kai's expression was guarded but concerned. Nico looked downright worried.

"Jonah?" Nico asked carefully. "You good, man?"

Jonah stared at them, still trying to slow his rapid breathing. The familiar walls of the simulation returned, dimly lit and oppressive.

Jonah looked around. The room wasn't the studio. Not the school either. It was something else entirely—dimly lit, with shifting shadows on the walls. The air hummed with a strange energy.

"What… where are we?" Jonah whispered.

Kai stepped forward, glancing back at Nico. "Not sure. But this place is messing with all of us."

"You were just standing there," Nico said, folding his arms. "Mumbling to yourself. We've been trying to get your attention."

Jonah looked around, disoriented. The cold weight in his chest lingered. His father's voice still echoed faintly in his mind.

"But I was… I was somewhere else."

Kai stepped closer, his tone softer this time. "Yeah, well, you're here now. With us."

Jonah met his gaze, searching for any hint of judgment. But there was none. Only a guarded curiosity and maybe—just maybe—understanding.

"We need to move," Nico said, glancing over his shoulder. "I refuse to stay any longer in this place."

Jonah nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

As if on cue, the walls began to shift again. Panels slid open, revealing a series of doorways. Each door had a symbol etched into it—some familiar, some strange.

"What now?" Nico muttered.

Kai stared at the doors as he sighed. "A trick. Has to be. This place wants us to face something."

The room seemed to breathe, the lights flickering.

"One wrong move and who knows what happens," Kai continued. "We have to pick a door. Together."

Jonah swallowed hard. "And how do we know which one is right?"

Kai didn't answer immediately. He stepped toward the doors, studying the symbols. One showed a broken chain. Another, a mask. A third had a cracked mirror. The last one bore a pair of wings.

"It's testing us," Kai said at last. 

The moment he said it, the room trembled. The doors pulsed with dim light.

"Whatever we choose will mean something. But we can't hesitate."

Jonah felt a chill creep up his spine. The cracked mirror seemed to call to him—reflecting his fragmented mind. But he hesitated. Was that the right path? Or a trap?

Kai turned to the others, determination hardening his features. "We pick a door. Together. And we deal with whatever's on the other side."

Jonah exchanged a glance with Nico. The room hummed louder now, urging them on.

With a deep breath, Kai reached for the cracked mirror door.

It swung open with a groan, revealing darkness beyond. The shadows inside shifted, whispering secrets and doubts.

Kai glanced back. "Well, you guys ready?"

Jonah nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at him. Nico followed suit.

As they stepped into the darkness, the door slammed shut behind them. The floor seemed to vanish beneath their feet.

They were falling.

The trial had begun.