Shattered Petals

The rain tapped gently against the window, a quiet reminder of the sorrow that filled the room. Kai stood frozen by the table, staring at the delicate flower lying there. Each petal seemed to hold a beautiful memory—a moment of love, hope, or joy—but as he looked closer, one petal trembled and darkened, revealing a nightmare beneath its surface.
He whispered softly, “Every petal holds a beautiful memory... except for this one. This petal shows the nightmare that took everything away.”
His throat tightened as the memory surged back. She was there, radiant and smiling, her voice full of hope. “Kai, I’m pregnant.”
Then, without warning, the world shattered—a gunshot ripped through the air, and she was gone in an instant.
Kai’s hand trembled as he reached out, but the killer vanished into the mist like a shadow lost in time. A sudden gust of wind swept through, lifting the fragile flower from the table and sending it drifting through the air.
The flower floated silently, as if drawn by an unseen force, into the very room where the tragedy had unfolded. The space was bathed in a stark, white light—cold and surreal.
As Kai stepped inside, the air shimmered with fractured moments, revealing countless possibilities: a quiet proposal beneath a clear sky, a father’s fading breath, his own body wracked by pain.
And then, hauntingly, he saw himself—twice. Two versions of Kai standing at the center of all these unfolding chances.
In one vision, his lover fell, life slipping beyond reach.
A desperate urgency surged within him, and he reached out to change that moment.
But suddenly, he found himself before a pristine white door. His body, no longer his own, moved with a will beyond his control.
He raised a gun—and in a heart-wrenching echo—fired the shot that would seal her fate.