Chapter 0: Dejavú Everywhere

As far as I could remember from the oldest memories of my childhood, everything around me always felt slightly odd. As if I knew something was going to happen before it could occur, but I would still let it play through.

I would do nothing except watch hoping I was wrong and something different would happen, but in the end, I was right.

It still freaks me out at how I knew and how it's was even possible, to begin with.

Am I going crazy?

Is this all real?

Am I real?

I never told my father. He would blow me off like the last time I even tried telling him.

I was five at the time; I ran to him in a fit of tears seeking his comfort after a so-called nightmare.

I begged for him to listen to me, at least understand and take a slight precaution, but he laughed at me and brushed my warning off. He thought it just a bad dream, and that's all he ever thought about it.

Still, that "nightmare" I remember from so long ago is traumatic for any five year old to dream about. To see his father hang himself.

But that was just start. After that dream, I had glued to my father ever since, never wanting to let him go. I would cry and grip onto his leg when he would leave for missions pleading for him not to leave.

I was terrified of losing him; I had already lost my mother since she died giving birth to me. I'd rather not lose the only parent I have to death again.

Eventually, the dream of him hanging would reoccur now and then. I thought that the horrifying nightmare was starting to disappear, but yet again, I was proven wrong since, after a while, it had begun to show more frequently during the week.

The more it occurred, the more details of the gruesome scene would reveal itself as if to antagonize me. I would see him struggle for his last breath the rope tightening with each breath. His body was shaking, and his hands were tugging at the rope to let him go.

Then as the seconds dragged on longer, his face grew purple from the loss of breath. And then finally his arms finally give up and with his last exhale he slumped.

I watched as his body hung loosely from the featless struggle of before. Seeing him sway back and forth with each eerie swing of the rope echoing louder.

And after each dream, I would end up screaming in the middle of the night crying. A sobbing mess, calling out for my father. He would always run into my room, and it went so far as to where we ended up having to be in the same room.

I would cling onto him, every second away from him scared me of what might happen if I wasn't there.

Then as this dragged on, my clinginess slowly started to get my father in trouble since his assigned missions that were for the village had to be ignored due to me. It wasn't a good thing to others, but for me, I could care less as long as my father was still alive.

At least that's what I thought.

A lot of kids had started to tease me and pick on me, calling me a daddy's boy. They would mock me labeling me a child for still sticking to their parent.

At this point I didn't care what they would call me they could say all they want, none of it mattered to me anyway.

Then came the day, the day when my father tried-and horribly failed to sign me up to the ninja academy. Unlike the other children that were naturally clingy to their parents afraid of going to a new place, I mean it was normal for them to be.

Except I was a different case. This unhealthy obsession and fear of leaving my father side would prevent him and me from being able to do anything. Some of the adults suggested my father to take me to see a therapist. That I wasn't healthy and this shouldn't be normal.

Their remarks slightly angered me, and I didn't like that, at all. Of course, my father always caring for my well being since he was a single father; he couldn't help but trust other people's advice they threw at him.

By tomorrow I'll have an appointment with a therapist.

I hate having to admit my feeling in front of a woman I don't know. She, not my parents, why should I confide in someone who isn't my father?

All she'll do is call me crazy like my father; no one will believe me.

No one ever will

All it will do is, is take me away from my father.

Why do I have to go?

I'm not crazy

I'm not crazy

I'm not crazy

I'M NOT CRAZY

I'M NOT

right?

(Okay! So this is like the third rewrite of Relive. ;; haha Im never satisfied on how it came out on the first time. Like sure, I tried to make it different by making something that no one has done it like this. I think. Who knows, all I know is that I'm most definitely satisfied with it and well yeah. I mean I was happy when I did the rewrite, but then I had a friend pointed out a few things, and it bothered me so much. Then there was the thing of me reading a lot -mostly fanfics but a good amount of James Patterson as well and many other authors. So well, since the way I tend to write things, this style would fit with me better. So yeah.

Unlike other times I'm still trying to get used to this writing style and well Im most likely going to later edit over this since well (Grammarly) and having and having a writers handbook now I'm my handsy. (I'll be very very happy *insert He-man yelling* "I HAVE THE POWER"). Also because schools about to start and well yeah. Plus there the thing of me trying (or more like planning) to get my drivers license as well as well getting like (EXCUSES EXCUSES FOR EVERYTHING). The updating for this will be very, very hectic. As well for my other book. Please read it. I would love to know what people think of it, and maybe a beta would be nice too? Anyways yeah enjoy.)

- MyDayze (if anyone care to know I'm a pleased three-year-long fan of Day6, please give them the love they deserve it) and I'm not like some of those fans saying that they're underrated. Like BOI the number of fans that they have on their Twitter accounts. OOF. Anyway bye~)