Cold, freezing cold was what you felt as you fell to the ground. You had no idea of what was going to happen next.

Did you die?

No, this doesn't feel like death.

Maybe you just passed out? Yeah that sounds about right.

Whilst you felt like you were floating in a cold abyss of darkness. You felt at peace, nothing matters here, and nothing will matter –well, that was until you heard a voice.

It called out to you. You opened your eyes and what you saw was the most horrible thing ever.

It was yourself, but a bit younger. Horrifying, am I right?

'Is that me?' you asked yourself as the void around you started to change. The darkness morphed into house decor, old house decor. You were baffled at how familiar this house felt, like you've been here before. But, you being your stupid self, dissmissed it as nothing important. In front of you stood a replica of yourself and an old lady stood behind the other you, combing other you's hair.

"Y/N, do you remember that time I told you to not be afraid?" The old lady asked you as she gently stroked her fingers through your hair. She placed the comb down and began to massage your scalp.

The younger you smiled back at her. All you could do was examine your younger self. The younger version of you couldn't be anything over thirteen years old, everything was the exact version of you. As you scanned the other you, you noticed that there were black spots on your legs and hands –Your younger self didn't seem to care about them though.

the grandmother said and took your younger selves hand, caressing it with care and love,

'omen of death?' you thought as you made your way to the older woman, "What do you mean by that?!"

The older woman only looked up at you, her wrinkly face scrunched up into a small smile,

You began to get angrier by the second and you took her gray hair by her bun, "What the hell do you mean by omen of death!–" a blackhole appeared under you, and you felt yourself fall, "What–"