Upside-down Day into the New World

Upside-down Day into the New World

The sun is out, growing brighter every second, but its appearance is unsettling. A purple-blue halo edges it, seeping into the sky and staining it greenish-brown, tinting the world in strange colors. The air is tinged with an odd smell, like ozone mingled with burnt sugar, and fills the atmosphere with an unexpected, dizzying sweetness.

Mia sleeps on, the alarm drawing closer. A soft wind nudges the curtains, spilling light into the room—then at 7:08 a.m., the alarm cuts through the quiet.

She stirs, eyes heavy, body sluggish, dragging herself upright from the sheets. “Another day, another win,” she mutters. Standing, she squints at the window where the warped sky presses against the start of morning.

Her eyes open, mind still foggy. With a sigh, she thinks, I should wash up before I start looking like the sky. As she tries to get in for her morning routine, she notices that the doorknob is missing. This wakes her up, and she realizes the doorknob is on the other side of the door. Her head lifts as she looks around the room; instead of screaming, she gasps. The layout of her room has completely changed. What was on the left side is now on the right, and vice versa, as if the room had mirrored itself overnight.

Did I drink last night? No… I didn’t. So what is this?

She turns and opens the bathroom door. Beyond it, the entire space looks redone, mirrored from left to right. Confused, she walks into the dining hall, only to find it reversed in the opposite direction. At the balcony window, her breath catches: the whole city lies flipped, its layout inverted from what she has always known. The central clock tower, once a symbol of stability and direction, now looms on the opposite side of the skyline. Its familiar hands now swing in a counter direction, reflecting Mia's inner turmoil.

Mia is dumbfounded. Her face freezes in shock, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. “What the hell is going on?” she whispers.

Trying to steady herself, she decides to head out, but catches sight of her messy reflection. After all, it had been a long weekend. She cleans up, forces down a light breakfast—an effort that feels like a conquest—and then texts a friend to meet her, an act heavy enough to feel almost life-draining.

The corridors outside her apartment seem foreign, their angles unfamiliar. She nearly tripped down a staircase she thought she knew by heart. Pushing the thought aside, Mia steps out into the reordered world, every detail inverted from the life she once recognized.

Looking around, scanning her surroundings, she finally begins to make sense of this new world. After walking for a while through the alleys to The Cafe Mint, she sees her friend Kira at a distance, easy to spot in her chic outfit, though something seems amiss. Mia approaches her, grabs her arm, and leans in to whisper, "Did you notice it too?" Kira, taken aback, asks, "Notice what?" Mia holds her gaze, the silence stretching, creating a tension that seems almost tangible. Kira's confusion deepens, pulling her thoughts into the strange reality Mia hinted at. Her eyes widen, blinking rapidly, and the world around her suddenly becomes sharper.

“This is weird,” she muttered, turning abruptly toward the mirror. The reflection staring back at her made her chest tighten—something was off, a shift, subtle yet undeniable. She spun back to Mia in a snap, scanning her from head to toe.

Mia looked unchanged—her usual outfit, the backpack slung casually over her left shoulder, bracelets and rings glinting faintly on her right hand.

“You seem… the same,” Kira said, her voice quick, edged with panic. “But me—something’s different. This isn’t fine. I need to fix it.”

Before Mia could answer, Kira darted toward the restroom, vanishing in a blur of hurried footsteps. Mia blinked, startled, and wandered in small circles outside, her expression caught between surprise and uncertainty.

Fifteen minutes later, Kira emerged. Her breathing steadied, her eyes calmer now, as if she had fought a silent battle with her own reflection and won.

“Finally,” she exhaled, brushing stray hair from her face. “I’m okay now. So—tell me, what’s new?”

The question caught Mia off guard. She tilted her head, confusion clouding her features. “What… what’s new?”

Kira gave a half-smile, but her voice carried weight. “Hello? Look around. And if that’s not enough, think about the reorder you just saw me frantic over. I literally ran off to reset myself—to fix the direction of my whole look.”

Mia’s breath hitched. She gasped lightly, her big doe-like eyes widening, shimmering as sunlight caught them. "So," she whispered, "does this mean you noticed it too? This... redirection? Reorder? Whatever it is?" Her grip on Kira's arms tightened. Words tumbled out frantically, like a waterfall—unexpected, endless. A pause, heavy and measured, settled into silence, drawing the eyes of curious bystanders.

Kira placed her hand gently over Mia’s, steadying her. “Calm down,” she urged softly. Her tone carried reassurance, the kind that anchored the unsteady. “Let’s not make a scene. How about we grab some snacks at the café? We’ll figure this out there.”

With a small tap of comfort against Mia’s hand, Kira guided her forward. One girl buzzed with frantic confusion, the other drifting through a world that suddenly felt unfamiliar, each step drawing them deeper into a shared mystery.

As they walked towards the face, at times, they did feel like a lost child in a park, looking for their parents. After getting through the confusion, the girls are able to get to the main door. As a habit, Kira reaches to the right side of the door, where the door handle used to be. Oops! Kira exclaims, to which Mia giggles in return, “Welcome to this new weird world,” making her eyes look like Dobby. Kira looked at her face with amusement and a light giggle.

Let’s walk for now. You go and sit somewhere, and let me order something for us to have.