Reborn 90 days before the apocalypse

Donna’s POV

The muddy water filled my lungs and every breath I took felt like swallowing broken glass, destroying my throat from the inside out. 

Simon!

My fingers clawed uselessly at the water and I could still see his face. I could still feel his small hands shoving my shoulders backward.

Simon, my sweet, deaf brother. The boy who was terrified of thunder and the dark, who relied on me for everything in this cruel world and I failed him. He didn't hesitate for a second and pushed me out of the way and took the hit of the hailstorm.

I watched in agony as the ice shattered against his body. He froze at the spot and immediately sank into the water. I screamed his name, but the water rushed into my mouth, and stole my voice.

But the pain of drowning was nothing compared to Michael’s final words before he threw us out from the shelter.

"The new project is officially launched, Donna," he sneered as the rain mercilessly lashed against my face. "I own the patents. I own the company. I own it all. You've served your purpose, and Angela needs your space. Get out."

He threw us out into the storm like we were nothing and because of him, my brother was dying in the freezing water.

And then, I couldn't hold on anymore, and breathe my last.

I gasped, my chest heaving violently as I shot up from the mattress.

I was drenched in sweat, my hands clawing at the duvet like my life depended on it. I coughed, my hands clung to my throat, expecting to spit up dirty water.

But there was nothing. Instead, all I felt was warmth and the peace of the house. There was no flood, no hailstorm, just calmness.

 I quickly reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up brightly and the date stared back at me.

August 12th.

It was exactly ninety days before the flood and hailstorm apocalypse would wipe out humanity in a matter of weeks.

I had been reborn.

I dropped the phone onto the blanket, my hands trembling as the memories of my previous life glared at me, filling my heart with betrayal and agony.

I remembered Michael's face when I was a starving orphan, struggling just to afford the special medical care my brother needed. I fought to secure a spot at that corporate innovation program, hoping my tech blueprints would win a grant to save us. Michael walked into that hall that day and played the perfect, wealthy savior. He offered me a marriage of convenience, promising that Simon would have the best doctors and a safe home.

I thought he was my saving grace and my nightmares were finally over. I didn't realize I was just signing a contract with a new monster.

He didn't love me. He used my intellect, my research, and my work to build his failing company into an empire. He took all the credit while I wasted away in the shadows, all because I was terrified of losing the financial stability keeping my brother alive.

And when the floods came, the truth was crystal clear. I was no longer useful. He threw us out so he could finally have his stepsister without hiding.

Angela.

The woman who had been sharing his bed and mocking me while living luxuriously on the empire I built.

"Simon," I choked out.

The panic in my chest vanished at once, replaced by burning rage. I threw the duvet off my legs and dashed out of my room, rushing down the hallway.

I opened the door to Simon’s room, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He was sitting quietly by the window, with a book on his lap.

Oh my baby! He was alive!

Thank God.

A teardrop escaped my eye, rolling down my cheek. I ran across the room and threw myself to the ground, hugging him tightly until he let out a confused gasp.

I buried my face deeply into his shoulder, breathing in the sweetness of his skin and kissed his forehead.

You are alive. I am alive.

Simon gently patted my back, pulling away just enough to look at my face. His innocent eyes were filled with confusion. 

“Donna, are you crying? Who hurt you?”

I wiped the tears from my face, as determination filled my soul.

In this life, I would not be the pathetic woman who gave up her intellect and her pride for the illusion of a savior. I would take back every single thing I built, and I would watch Michael and Angela drown in the storm they threw me into.

I raised my hands, looking directly into my brother's eyes, and signed back with absolute confidence.

“I would never let anyone hurt you. I promise. I love you.”

His face beamed with a bright smile that shattered my heart.

The door was kicked open and Angela strolled into the room. She was wearing my robe, the one I had bought with my first private dividend check before Michael completely seized my accounts. 

She stopped by the door, looking down at us with her usual despising smirk.

She didn't even look at me, she just stepped forward and kicked Simon’s leg to get his attention.

Simon flinched, pulling his leg back.

Angela smirked, raising her hands to sign to him, her face twisted into a frown.

“Go down to the basement cellar and bring me the white vintage wine.”

I stayed on the floor, my eyes locked onto her with disgust. The basement cellar was near the generators that powered the mansion and she knew Simon was scared of the dark and such noise and still did it for her stupid and evil amusement.

In my past life, I would have immediately stood up, swallowed my pride, and offered to go to the cellar myself, scared of causing conflict. I was always desperate to keep the peace so Michael wouldn't threaten Simon's medical care.

I couldn't help it. A dry laugh escaped my lips. I smiled, staring through the pain of my past stupidity.

Angela’s head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowed.

"What's so funny, huh?" she spat. "Tell your brother to hurry up. I have a headache and I need a drink."

I gently placed my hand on Simon's shoulder, signing, “Stay” to him with one hand.

I slowly stood up, my gaze fixed directly on her face, and that submissive orphan she thought she knew was gone.

"Get your own damn wine," my voice was flat.

Angela’s eyes widened in shock, her face twisted with rage as her brain struggled to process my sudden refusal. In the three years I had lived in this house, I had never once told her no.

"What did you just say to me, you bitch?" she hissed, taking a step forward. "You think because Michael pities you, you can suddenly talk back to me in my own house?"

She lunged forward, raising her hand to slap my face.

Before she could even close the distance, the image of Simon sinking into the dirty water flashed right in my eyes. The sound of the hailstones destroying his body filled my ears.

My chest heaved rapidly as I clenched my fist and without a single hesitation, I planted my foot firmly on the ground, stepped forward and delivered a merciless kick straight into her stomach.

She let out a sharp gasp, wincing, her eyes reddening with tears as she dropped to the ground.

Before she could even hit the floor, I snatched the robe from her shoulders, leaving her in just her nightgown.

"This robe is mine," I stated coldly. "And you are no longer welcome in this room. Get out.”