When he opened his eyes the next morning, he didn’t feel rested. His head felt the same—weighted down by the remnants of exhaustion and confusion—and his body groaned as he shifted in bed. His alarm clock read December 10th.

  He froze.

  Something wasn’t right.

  He rubbed his eyes, glanced at his calendar across the room, and saw the date once again: December 10th.

  His stomach sank.

  The sensation was slow, creeping, like the first footsteps of a terrible realization. His breathing felt shallow as he stared at the number, his mind struggling to catch up. His heart thudded as the weight of it pressed on him. The same day.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  His hands clenched the sheets. He sat up quickly, his body trembling.

  No.

  This couldn’t be.

  He glanced at his phone. Sure enough, the date was there too. December 10th. His legs felt unsteady as he placed his feet on the ground, his breath coming in short gasps.

  It couldn’t have happened. He must have misread something, must have imagined it. But when he glanced at the window, at the same gray sky, at the quiet streets below... nothing felt right.

  He felt his mind spiral. Had he gone insane? Or was this some kind of... repeating nightmare?

  He had no answers. And the worst part? It felt real.

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