Chapter 1: " Incident "

The morning sun was too bright, like someone cranked the saturation on a cheap holo-game. My name is parl sora. 

I slouched on the couch in our living room, thumbing through my phone some dumb app kept pushing ads for “C.A.R.P. LifeSync,” whatever that was. 

The air felt heavy, buzzing with a static I couldn’t place, but I ignored it. Just another Tuesday, right? “ Parl, you gonna sit there all day or help me with lunch?” Mom’s voice her name is Yai sora cut through the hum of the TV. 

She leaned against the kitchen doorway, her dark hair tied back, a smirk playing on her lips. She had this way of making you feel caught, like she knew your every move before you made it.

“Chill, Mom, it’s summer break,” I groaned, tossing my phone onto the cushion. “I’m recovering from the trauma of algebra.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed, that sharp, warm sound that always made the house feel alive. “Oh, poor baby. So, who’s this Aya girl you’ve been texting non-stop? Spill it.”

My face went hot. “What ?! Aya? She’s just a friend, Mom, jeez!” Aya Sumi was my best friend, had been since we were kids, but Mom loved turning every convo into a trap. Ragebait, I called it.

“Uh-huh, ‘just a friend,’ ” Yai teased, air-quoting with a grin. “Sure, Parl.” Before I could fire back, the front door swung open, and Dad his name Moto burst in, all energy and chaos. 

“Surprise, surprise! Guess what your VIP’s got!” He held up three shiny tickets, waving them like he’d won the lottery. 

His goofy grin made him look younger than his forty years, despite the gray creeping into his beard.

“Something stupid, for sure,” Yai said, crossing her arms, but her smile betrayed her.“Nah, nah, nah!” Moto said, strutting to the couch. 

“Angry Birds The Ride! Tickets to HappyLand Amusement Park, baby! We’re going today!” I bolted upright. “No way! That’s the new rollercoaster, right? With the VR goggles and all?” “Exactly!” Moto high-fived me. 

“Told ya I’m the coolest dad.” Yai groaned dramatically. “Why do I have to come? You two nerds can geek out without me.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining the vibe,” Moto shot back, tossing her a ticket. “Family day, no excuses.” I laughed, the kind that made my chest feel light. 

This was us Mom’s sass, Dad’s dorkiness, and me stuck in the middle, loving every second. For a moment, the static in the air faded, and everything felt perfect.

But then the TV flickered, just for a second, its screen glitching with jagged lines. A voice droned mid-commercial  “C.A.R.P. ensures your safety, always watching…” 

The words looped, stuck, then cut off. I blinked, uneasy, but Mom was already dragging me to get ready.“C’mon, Parl, move it!” she called. 

“Your dad’s gonna make us late with his ‘shortcut’ nonsense.” I shook off the weirdness. Just a glitch. Nothing new in this tech-obsessed city.

The drive to HappyLand was pure chaos, in the best way. Dad blasted some retro pop song on the car’s holo-radio, drumming the steering wheel like he was a rockstar. 

Mom fake-gagged but hummed along, caught in the beat. I leaned against the backseat window, the city blurring past too-clean streets, too-perfect billboards flashing C.A.R.P. logos. 

Something about it bugged me, like a photo edited too sharp, but I pushed it down.“ Parl, you ready to scream on that rollercoaster?” Moto asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.

“Born ready,” I said, smirking. “Bet Mom chickens out first.” “Excuse you,” Yai said, turning to glare. “I’ll ride circles around you both.

”We were still laughing when it happened. The radio hiccuped, looping the same lyric “fly away, fly away” like a broken record. 

A shadow loomed ahead. Dad cursed, slamming the brakes, but it was too late. The world tilted. Tires screeched, metal crunched, glass shattered. 

My head slammed against the window, pain exploding behind my eyes. The car spun, a sickening whirl of light and sound, and Mom’s laugh turned to a scream.

Then silence. Smoke choked my lungs. I clawed at my seatbelt, gasping, my vision swimming. The car was a crumpled heap, dashboard sparking, red taillights flickering like dying stars. 

“Mom? Dad?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper.They were still in the front seats, too still. Mom’s head lolled against the headrest, her hair matted with blood. 

Dad’s hand reached toward me, frozen, his goofy grin gone. I screamed their names, over and over, but they didn’t move. 

Didn’t breathe. Hands pulled me from the wreckage strangers, their faces blank, their voices too calm. “Stay back, kid. Help’s coming.” 

A drone hovered above, its camera glinting like an eye, a faint C.A.R.P. logo etched on its side. I fought to reach my parents, but my legs buckled, and the world went dark.

I woke to the beep of machines, the sterile white of a hospital room burning my eyes. My head throbbed, my arm bandaged, but the pain was nothing compared to the hole in my chest. 

Uncle Soya sat beside me, his weathered face grim. He was Mom’s older brother, a gruff guy who lived alone and didn’t talk much. 

His presence here meant something bad real bad.“Kid,” he said, his voice low, like he was forcing the words out. “It’s a hard time. Be strong. Your parents… they didn’t make it.”

I stared at him, waiting for the lie to crack, for him to say it was a mistake. But his eyes, red-rimmed, held no lie. “No,” I whispered. “ They were just… we were going to HappyLand. They were fine.”

Soya gripped my shoulder, his calloused hand trembling. “I’m sorry, Parl. I’m so damn sorry.” The room spun. I saw it again Mom’s blood, Dad’s limp hand, the smoke. 

My throat closed, and I couldn’t breathe. They were gone. The people who made me laugh, who knew me better than I knew myself gone. 

I clutched the hospital sheet, my knuckles white, and let out a choked sob. Soya stayed quiet, letting me fall apart. 

A nurse came in, her smile too perfect, her movements too smooth. “You’ll recover soon, Parl Sora,” she said, her voice flat. “C.A.R.P. Health Systems ensures your safety.” 

The words felt wrong, like a script, but I was too numb to care. They let me leave a few days later. Soya took me to his cramped apartment on the edge of the city, a place that smelled of old coffee and engine oil. 

“You’ll stay with me,” he said, tossing a blanket on the couch. “We’ll figure it out.” I nodded, but I wasn’t there. Not really. I was still in that car, still screaming for Mom and Dad.

Days blurred into weeks. I didn’t go back to school. Didn’t answer texts. The city kept moving too loud, too bright, like it didn’t care my world had stopped. 

Billboards flashed C.A.R.P. ads: “Live better, live safe.” Drones buzzed overhead, always watching. Sometimes, I’d catch a glitch a streetlight flickering, a stranger saying “Have a nice day” in the same tone as someone else. 

I told myself it was grief messing with my head. Aya was the only one who got through. She showed up at Soya’s one day, her dark ponytail bouncing, her eyes fierce. 

“You can’t just ghost me, Parl,” she said, shoving a takeout bag into my hands. “Eat. You look like a zombie.”Aya and I went way back since we were kids, though I couldn’t pin down when we met. 

She was the kind of friend who’d call you out but stick around no matter what. She dragged me to coffee shops, made me laugh with her dumb impressions, and didn’t flinch when I zoned out, lost in memories of Mom’s teasing or Dad’s corny jokes.

“You’ll get through this,” she said one day, sipping a latte. “Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you will.” I wanted to believe her, but the hole in my chest didn’t shrink. 

Still, Aya’s stubbornness kept me going, like a tether to something real. A month passed, then two. The year 2019 felt wrong, too short, like it was a month stretched thin. 

I caught myself staring at calendars, uneasy. June 19, 2019, the day of the crash, was burned into me. I’d see it everywhere on my phone, on news tickers. 

Once, a barista handed me a coffee, the date scrawled on the cup: 6/19/19. My hands shook so bad I dropped it. Soya noticed me spiraling. 

“You gotta move forward, kid,” he said, his voice gruff but kind. “They’d want that.” He was right, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

It was June again, almost a year since the crash. I don’t know why I went back to our old house. Maybe I needed to feel them, to remember the good times before it all broke. 

Soya gave me the key, his eyes worried, but he didn’t stop me. The neighborhood was too quiet, the lawns too perfect. Our house stood at the end of the street, its blue paint untouched, like no one’d lived there in months. Or maybe… never. 

The door was cracked open, swinging in a breeze I didn’t feel. My heart pounded, but I stepped inside. The air smelled of Mom’s cooking spices, warmth, home. 

My sneakers squeaked on the polished floor, and memories hit me like a wave Dad dancing in the kitchen, Mom yelling at us to set the table. 

I froze, my throat tight, clutching Dad’s broken watch, the one I’d kept from the wreck.“Parl! You’re back early!” Her voice Yai’s voice sliced through me like a blade.

I spun around. She stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot, her smile bright as ever. Her hair was tied back, just like that morning a year ago. 

“M-Mom?” I choked out, my legs trembling.“ Dinner’s almost ready, sweetie,” she said, turning to me. But her smile was too perfect, her eyes too still. 

The room hummed, a low buzz like static crawling under my skin. Her face flickered just for a second, like a holo-feed breaking up.

I stumbled back, my gaze darting to the wall. A calendar hung there, its date burning into my eyes June 19, 2019. The day they died.“Dinner’s ready,” Mom said again. 

To be continued…