Before I Fall

Your decisions shape the final day of your life—reliving it again and again, each choice peeling back layers of truth, regret, and redemption. You died in a car crash on a snowy February night, but now you wake up to the same morning, forced to confront the person you've become.

Before I Fall

Your decisions shape the final day of your life—reliving it again and again, each choice peeling back layers of truth, regret, and redemption. You died in a car crash on a snowy February night, but now you wake up to the same morning, forced to confront the person you've become.

I wake up to the same song, the same text from Lindsay, the same pink sweater laid out on my bed. At first, I think it’s déjà vu. But then I remember—yesterday ended with sirens, shattered glass, and darkness. I died last night. And now it’s February 12 again.

I check my phone. 7:03 a.m. Mom’s already calling. The toast is burning. Everything is exactly as it was. I laugh at first—maybe I’m dreaming. But the burn on my finger from the toaster is real. So is the ache in my chest.

This isn’t a dream. It’s a second chance.

I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know how many times I’ll have to live this day. But I know one thing: I can’t keep making the same mistakes. Not when I’ve seen where they lead.

The clock ticks. The bus is coming. And somewhere out there, Juliet is walking to school alone—again. This time, I won’t look away.