The way to school was another blunder I have to go through. At some point, I frowned and stomped my way through it with enough attitude to win me an Oscars. Now, I've dwindled down to someone who just smiles, nods, and waves at people.

First hurdle of the day was Pastor Frank. He was a middle-aged pastor that seemed to have his face frozen in a permanent smile. Every morning, he stood in front of a small, four-pronged chapel opposite my house, wearing his standard black polo shirt and slacks with a silver rectangle clipped by his collar. He waved as he greeted anyone who passed by.

Take that young woman who was probably in her later twenties. She walks her husky everyday, carrying a pink tumbler in her left hand, wearing what's supposed to be a workout outfit. Right on schedule, she's there, sashaying in her bright pink crop top and skin-tight leggings.

I kept my hand on the knob as I loitered on the porch, counting the seconds before the husky and the woman passed Pastor Frank. Five, four, three, two, one.

"Good morning! I hope you have a good day!" Pastor Frank bellowed, his deep voice reverberating across the asphalted street.

The woman stopped, drank from her water bottle, and regarded the pastor. "Thank you, Pastor," she said as if she was told to do so. "I'll see you at service this Sunday."

The pastor responded jovially with nods and vague stuttering sounds. He does that every time someone mentions attending his Sunday service that never actually happens. I counted more seconds. He's going to notice me loitering any second now.

"Jule! Off to school, are ya?" Pastor Frank called. I blew a breath and schooled my face into a tight smile.

It was loitering day today so that's what he's going to say to me. I tackled the three-step stairs down the porch, crossed the lawn in seven long strides, and came up to him across the street to talk to him properly.

"Yeah, I am," I said. "Nice morning, huh?"

I tried remembering my reply this time. Yesterday, I just gave him a cold stare and went on my way. He just shouted "God bless you. Have fun at school!"—his signature quote—that made guilt churn in my stomach.

Today, I tried making up for that choice by talking to him, at least a bit.

Pastor Frank nodded, the rectangular thing on his neck glinting in the early morning sun. "Nice morning, indeed! You should go. I hate to be the reason you have to be late."

I nodded, touched at his thoughtfulness. I hooked my thumb on the strap of my bag and took a step back, angling my body to dash out of this awkward conversation. "Yeah, I should go."

I was up towards the next house when he shouted after me, "God bless you. Have fun at school!"

I groaned.

On the way to school, I passed by a Primary School with children lining up as they were about to enter their classrooms. Parents, teachers, and school bus drivers loitered around the front as small children were ushered inside the premises. Any moment now, a small girl would be pushed over by her classmate. She would cry, causing an uproar among the parents with the bus drivers mediating.

It was a fun event so early in the morning, really. I tried watching it play out.

I was almost past Mr. Comb's barbecue party when I heard the child's cry and the initial clamor of the parents. I quickened my pace, careful not to let Mr. Comb notice me. If he does, he would spend the next thirty minutes talking about his son that's supposed to be coming home today.

Well, guess what? His son will not make it home today or ever. Mr. Comb was stuck waiting for his son to come home, everyday.

Sucks.

Well, today, he didn't notice me which was good. I wasn't even in the mood for steak so early in the morning. And I could make it to school earlier than expected, assuming I don't run into more obstacles on the way.

A dog's bark and his owner's alarming cries broke my success streak. I stepped aside as a brown collection of fur zipped past me. I learned the hard way what happens when I don't step aside. It's...bad.

The owner, Mrs. Higgins, came lumbering after the dog a few seconds later. She was a thirty-something yoga trainer that owns a lot of fluffy dogs. And every single day, Junior, her youngest pup, escapes his leash to run amok.

Mrs. Higgins came up to me and I gave her a nod before sprinting the opposite way. Let her worry about her own damned dog. I tried chasing it once and nobody told me that the dog would end up in a mud pool in one of the unclaimed lots in my neighborhood. I don't want to go through that again.

Mrs. Higgins can handle it, I was sure. She has been handling it ever since I stopped chasing after Junior. I believe in Mrs. Higgins.

I ran and didn't bother stopping until I was past the old lady's lawn. That's good. I don't have time nor the energy to listen to her rant about her dragons. She's a writer in her seventies with bad handwriting and tons of succulents. She sat in her wooden, sunbathing chair on her lawn, scrawling on a worn cardboard journal every day. And poor her, she couldn't seem to move past her protagonist's prejudice against dragons.

So I stopped bothering. I just sprinted past her lawn as soon as I found out that she wouldn't notice me when I do that.

I passed the carshop and with my hoodie and sweatpants, none of the three mechanics bothered to stare at me. Which was good. I was not in the mood to be disrespected so early in the morning.

A few distance from the carshop was the ranch. Ritch, the owner dressed impeccably in cowboy get-up like he thought himself to be one, would come out at any moment to offer me cheese made from goat's milk. Then a goose would honk, escaping the wooden, red-painted barn at the ranch's entrance. For some reason, the goose would find my legs savory and proceed pecking me.

So, no. I'm avoiding Ritch, no matter how tasty his cheese might be.

Opposite Ritch's ranch was the Supermarket, already bustling with activity even when it had just opened for the day. I walked faster, stopping myself from deviating from the path and strolling inside to buy a stack of Cocoreos.

If there's anything good left in this world, they're probably those sweet coconut cookies. I could live off of that forever if only there was more than one pack left at the Supermarket. Such niceness heaven has for me.

Past the supermarket, where the road opened up in a t-intersection was the bus stop. It was a fairly busy site, with cars zooming past me in dizzying colors. Tons of students from my Campus flooded the area, either boarding off red buses or walking from all directions apart from where I came from.

I saw some of my classmates from other classes, frowning at their bleak fate at school or chatting with their friends that happened to live in the same area as them. Like a perfectly good student, I blended in with them.

From the bus stop, there's still a good while of walking that goes on, leading the people to a corner. Once I rounded that corner, the Campus raged into view.

The Campus was a large, mansion-like building with two main wings inside a long, rectangular building and tons of parking space. The main gate was wide and open, the students trickling inside like sand in an hourglass.

Once past the main gate, the flow was immediately divided into two.

I deviated from the main bunch that preferred the tailored pavement. Landscaped gardens rose in green waves, flinging much life and color into people's faces as they tackled that said path—the main reason why I stay away from it.

My shoes crunched against the gravel scattered around in the parking lot. This was the second, less popular path. It's less crowded and less scenic than the pavements but it's good enough. I wouldn't meet a certain person waiting by the main entrance if I took this path.

Travis. He did nothing but talk to me about games, more specifically, that RPG game on his tablet. I never fully understood what it's about, but for some reason, Travis has picked me to be his playing buddy.

I admit that I liked the game the first time I tried it on his tablet. Good worldbuilding, character design, and concept with smooth graphics. But, with the day resetting, it's always the same quests, the same amount of gold to be collected, the same deaths Travis had to suffer.

In time, I grew tired of it. Even if I don't stop to play Travis's game, he would follow me up to my first period classroom, talking about the quests, the gold, and the deaths. It has become annoying.

So I started taking this gravelly path, even with how much it hurt my ankles, just to have some clarity before the rest of the insanity begins for the day.

I pushed open the emergency exit doors and strutted my way through. This was the other wing full of students in my year but from different classes. I hardly knew anyone here but I'm willing to stake my inner stranger-avoidance instincts rather than endure another excruciating game talk with Travis.

I walked in, keeping track of the spaces on the floor that would surely get me to my locker without bumping into someone. It's a calculated path, up to the part where I have to dock a jockey's swinging arm as he moves to clasp his teammate's waiting hand in some sort of brotherhood handshake.

I learned that the hard way as well. Now, I always duck.

Everyone was the same as expected. There's no surprise there.

I walked the path like I've been doing every day. I ducked when I saw the tall, dark jockey with his arm out. I sidestepped a bunch of girls that talked about the latest phone model. It was going good.

Until someone bumped into me.

I'll repeat that. Someone bumped into me.

My shoulder jerked backwards as the force of someone whipping past me took effect. I stopped in my tracks, slowly whirling to find nothing but a whiff of messy brown hair and a blue-red flannel.

The noise faded in the background. I was supposed to be in the other wing right now, muttering excuse-me's under my breath in an effort to reach the blue-painted lockers. But I couldn't move with one thing flitting through my head again and again like a freaking marquee board.

Something changed even when I was not actively changing it. I took a calculated path. No one stood in my way as long as I did exactly that. So why...?

I backtracked a few steps, forgetting the first period entirely. I pushed people out of the way. I wanted to find them. I needed to find that person.

I've been calling myself stupid the entire time for believing that I could escape the loop. I have given up at some point. I stopped caring at all. It didn't occur to me that this was the day that I had finally grasped the answer, or at least, some sliver of it.

Someone changed the day I've been living and it's not me. Somehow, the answer in getting out of this loop was going to be in that person's hands.

I turned, chasing after the answer to my questions.