Chapter 11: The Point Where Everything Goes Wrong!

That night, Pete's dreams carried him to a vision of a life filled with love and fulfillment. In the dream, he stood on the porch of his house, the sun casting a warm golden glow over the farm. Beside him was a boy, his son, with Popuri's sparkling eyes and Pete's determined expression. Together, they walked toward the fields, the boy eagerly hanging on Pete's every word as he demonstrated how to plant seeds, water crops, and tend to the animals.

In the distance, Pete could see Popuri in the flower garden, her pink hair shining like a beacon in the sunlight. By her side was a little girl, her spitting image, giggling as Popuri taught her how to gently handle the delicate blooms and care for the vegetables. The sound of their laughter carried on the breeze, filling Pete's heart with a profound sense of peace.

As the day in the dream unfolded, the family gathered around the dinner table, plates of strawberry dogs laid out before them. Laughter echoed through the room as the children shared stories of their day, their joy infectious. Popuri's smile was radiant as she leaned into Pete's side, her hand resting on his.

As Pete stirred in his sleep, he held onto the dream tightly, wishing for the day when it would become his reality. His heart swelled with hope, determination, and gratitude for the second chance he had been given.

Pete woke to the gentle light of dawn streaming through the window. The rooster's crow echoed through the still air, its familiar call signaling the start of another day. He stretched, his muscles stiff from sleep, and blinked groggily as he rubbed his eyes. The warmth of the bed around him was comforting, and without thinking, he reached out toward the other side, where he expected to find Popuri's presence. "Wake up," he murmured, his voice soft and drowsy.

A muffled groan came from beneath the blankets, but it was not Popuri's voice. It was unexpected—strange. His head snapped around in surprise, so quickly that a dull pain shot through his neck. His eyes widened in confusion as he processed what he was hearing.

"Hey, are you okay? Did you catch a cold last night?" Pete's voice wavered, a hint of concern creeping in as he tried to make sense of the situation. He reached out again, instinctively pulling at the sheets, his hand trembling slightly. The sheet fell away, and Pete froze in shock.

Elli was there instead of Popuri. Her soft, sleep-rumpled form lay there, completely undressed, her body curled in the bed beside him. Pete's heart beat rapidly, a cold shiver of disbelief running through him as his mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. The room felt suddenly too small, the air thick and suffocating.

Pete screamed. A raw, panicked sound tore from his throat as he flung himself out of the bed as though it had suddenly burst into flames. His feet tangled in the sheets, and he barely managed to keep himself from toppling over. His heart pounded in his chest, a frenzied drumbeat of confusion and alarm.

That was when he noticed it. He was naked. As naked as the day he was born.

His breath hitched as his wide eyes darted across the room, and the sight before him made his stomach lurch. Clothes—their clothes—were scattered haphazardly across the floor. His shirt tossed near the foot of the bed, Elli's dress crumpled beside it. His pants lay in a heap, half-draped over the chair. Every article of clothing was a silent testament to a night he couldn't remember.

"What the hell happened?!" he asked himself

Panic clawed at his throat as he scrambled for his clothes, his hands shaking so violently that he fumbled with the fabric. He yanked his pants up with frantic urgency, his mind racing, his thoughts colliding into each other in a tangled mess of questions and dread.

Elli sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes, still trapped in the haze of sleep. Her hair was tousled, brushing over her bare shoulders as she blinked at him, clearly confused by the chaos unfolding before her.

"What's going on?" she mumbled, her voice thick with grogginess.

Pete couldn't look at her. He wouldn't look at her. His face burned as he averted his gaze, grabbing her dress tossing it onto the bed in front of her with more force than necessary. "Elli! Put your clothes back on!" he barked, panic dripping from every syllable. He whirled around, turning his back to her as if that would somehow undo everything.

She blinked, startled. "Pete, why are you yelling? What's wrong?"

His breath was coming too fast, too shallow. His hands clenched into fists around his own shirt, his knuckles white. "Don't ask questions!" he snapped, his voice sharp with a mixture of fear and disbelief. His entire world felt like it was tilting, reality bending in ways it never should. "Just—just get dressed!"

Elli's frown deepened as she pulled the sheet tighter around herself, her earlier confusion giving way to genuine concern. She studied Pete with wary eyes, watching as he paced the room like a trapped animal. His breaths came fast and uneven, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair.

Pete's mind was a whirlwind. He didn't know how he had ended up there, why Elli was in his bed, or why the very fabric of his reality seemed to be unraveling before his eyes. But one thing was certain—this wasn't his home. This wasn't his life. And most painfully of all, this wasn't Popuri.

When they were both dressed and seated at the small wooden table in the corner of the room, Pete sat rigidly, his knee bouncing as he tried to make sense of everything. Elli folded her hands neatly in front of her, concern still etched across her delicate features.

"Pete, what is going on?" she asked softly. "You've been acting strange all morning."

Pete exhaled sharply, still feeling the weight of his own disorientation pressing down on him. He rubbed his temples, forcing himself to stay calm. "I should be the one asking that!" His voice came out sharper than intended. He pointed at the bed. "Why were you in my bed?"

Elli raised an eyebrow, her expression softening slightly, as if trying to decipher his sudden panic. "Because I spent the night," she said, her voice gentle, yet laced with confusion.

Pete shook his head, frustration creeping in. "I see that you spent the night, but why? What's going on here, Elli?" His voice wavered, a tremor of desperation slipping through.

Elli's brow furrowed. She tilted her head, studying him carefully, as if searching for some hint of a joke. "You asked me to come over, Pete. Are you feeling okay?" she asked, her tone laced with concern. "You're acting like you don't remember." And the terrifying truth was—he didn't.

Pete's breath came fast and uneven as the room seemed to close in around him. The wooden furniture, the soft cream-colored walls, the lace-trimmed curtains—none of it was right. It wasn't the warm, familiar farmhouse where he and Popuri had spent their few days together. It wasn't his home.

A cold chill crept up his spine as he rose abruptly to his feet. His pulse hammered in his ears as his eyes darted across the unfamiliar space. "Wait a second…" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Where are we?"

Elli blinked, concern deepening in her gaze. "What do you mean? We're at your house," she said carefully, as if speaking to someone on the verge of a breakdown.

Pete's heart pounded harder. He turned to her, his throat dry, his voice cracking. "That can't be! My house is on the Flowerbud Farm!"

Elli's brow knit together in confusion. "Flowerbud? As in Flowerbud Village?" She sat forward, searching his face for any sign of clarity. "Pete, you're home. You're on your farm, in Mineral Town."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Pete staggered back a step, his legs threatening to give out beneath him. His hands gripped the edge of the table as if letting go would send him plummeting into some dark abyss. "M-Mineral Town?" he asked himself. The name tasted foreign and wrong on his tongue. His breath came in short gasps as he forced himself to ask, "Where is that? I've never heard of it!"

Elli's face paled, her lips parting slightly. There was real alarm in her eyes now. "Pete… are you sure you're feeling okay?" Her voice was gentle but laced with worry. "How could you not know where we are? This is your home. You've lived here for years."

The word reverberated in his skull like an ominous bell tolling in the distance. Years. His mind raced, trying to grasp onto something, anything that made sense. "Yesterday—just yesterday—I was in Flowerbud Village. I was married to Popuri. We went to sleep together. I held her in my arms," he reminded himself, as if it would bring back his life.

Now he was here, in a strange house, in a town he never heard of, with a woman who wasn't his wife. A deep, gnawing horror settled in Pete's gut as the truth crashed over him like a tidal wave. "The life I was living just yesterday is... gone," he forced himself to admit.

Elli glanced at her watch and gasped softly. "Oh no, I'm going to be late for work!" She grabbed her purse from the counter and slung it over her shoulder, her movements hurried but fluid. As she passed Pete, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. "Bye, Pete! Don't forget to eat breakfast before you start working, okay?" she said, her tone warm and familiar, as though everything was perfectly normal.

Before Pete could say a word, Elli was already at the door. "See you later!" she called, disappearing out into the morning light. The door clicked shut, leaving Pete standing alone in the unfamiliar room.

He stared at the door for a long moment, his mind reeling. "She kissed me… She kissed me like we've done that a thousand times before. Like it's something we do every day." He ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process the whirlwind of confusion swirling in his mind.

It didn't take much to piece together one undeniable truth—whatever this life was, he and Elli were more than friends. They were supposed to be in a romantic relationship, perhaps even living together. His head spun at the thought.

Pete's hands clenched into fists. He couldn't deny the warmth in Elli's kiss or the way she spoke to him with love and familiarity, but his heart screamed that something was wrong. "This isn't my life… This isn't my Popuri… And where is Popuri anyway?"

He turned back to the room, now feeling suffocated by its unfamiliarity. The walls, the furniture, even the faint scent in the air—it all spoke of a life that wasn't his. Yet, it seemed as though everything around him is.

Now that the house was silent, Pete took a deep breath and decided to investigate. If he was going to figure out what was happening, he needed answers—and fast. He began by looking around for anything familiar, any clue that could help explain this bizarre new reality.

His eyes fell on the calendar hanging on the wall. It was a simple design, much like the one he had back at Flowerbud Farm. He approached it cautiously, half-expecting it to show some strange year or season. But to his surprise, the date was correct—Spring 25th, the exact same day it would have been. He hadn't gone forward or backward in time. But he was somewhere else nevertheless.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath, his voice steadying. "At least the date makes sense. But why here? Why and where did Mineral Town come from?"

Continuing his search, sitting next to his bed where the photo album would have sat was a journal with a worn leather cover. He reached for it, the book feeling heavier than it looked as he turned it over in his hands.

He opened the journal, his heart pounding as he flipped through the pages. To his dismay, the entries only went back to the start of Spring, offering a small snapshot of this strange new life—but not the full picture.

Most of the entries seemed ordinary, describing daily farm work, visits to Mineral Town's residents, and time spent with Elli. While the information was helpful in understanding his current circumstances, it didn't offer any clues as to how or why this had happened.

He sighed and closed the journal, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "It's like I just dropped into this life out of nowhere," he whispered to himself. "How am I supposed to figure this out if I don't even know where to start?"

He wished desperately for his photo album from Flowerbud Farm. That had been his anchor, his connection to the life he fell into. But now, even that was gone, replaced by fragmented pieces of a life that felt alien to him.

Pete leaned against the table, his mind racing. This wasn't just a different house or a new location. It was a completely rewritten life—and he was somehow expected to live it.