Here’s my kinda late story. 
The last year
Halle awoke in a puddle. Not a large puddle, more like a rain puddle, which young children would splash in on cloudy days. Small. Insignificant. Other people would walk around to avoid getting their shoes wet. But Halle awoke, curled up in the center of this puddle, shivering, sopping wet, and utterly alone.
She raised her head, wet hair plastered across her freckled nose. Her hand snaked up, dragging her hair off her face, then she rose further, her white shirt almost translucent from the watery stain stretching across her chest. Her head felt muddy, muddled and confused, as she tried to remember how she ended up in a puddle, in the middle of a forest, alone.
She blinked rapidly, hoping it would help clear her pounding head. Her thoughts swam around like a school of fish, making her vision swim with them. Halle groaned, laying her head down back into the puddle, waiting motionless until her head stopped spinning.
After almost an hour of laying comatose in the puddle, Halle rose once again, goosebumps standing out starkly on her arms. The water in her shoes sloshed around as she wandered through the forest, past unidentifiable trees and bushes.
At long last, Halle reached the edge of the forest, and found herself on a ridge overlooking a town. Her town. It looked slightly different than she remembered. A new building here, a garden there. Her eyes flickered around the town before she started to descend from the ridge.
As she walked through the town, the unfamiliarity seemed jarring to her, like someone had tilted the world five degrees to the left, and no one else noticed but her.
She glanced around the darkened streets, seeing no one but herself, before she came to a cafe which she did not recognize. A man stood outside the cafe, offering samples to passerbys.
Halle stooped close to him, her mouth parting as she gulped, trying to wet her tongue. “What day is it?”
The man answered without looking up. “February 28th darling.”
February? Last time she checked, it was January. “Are you sure sir?”
The man chuckled, arranging samples on a plate. “Of course. February 28th, 2021.”
2021? Halle’s head spun. It wasn’t 2021 yet. Yesterday it was 2020. Where had she been for a year?
Her silence finally drew the man’s attention to her face. Moments after he looked up, his face drained of colour and he screamed, throwing the tray at her and racing away through the streets.
Halle gawked at him. “Had she said something wrong?” When the man did not return, she continued on, soon arriving at a payphone, illuminated by a lone streetlight. Halle dug in her pocket for some change, and popped it in, calling the only number she could think of. Jake Wyler. Her best friend. He must know what happened.
The phone rang a couple of times until Jake picked it up on the last ring. His voice was groggy and sad as he answered, “Hello? Who is this?”
Halle almost jumped with joy. “It’s me, Halle! Jake, you’ve got to help me. I don’t know what’s going on.”
The line was silent.
“Jake? Jake please!”
A sigh echoed in the phone. “Very funny Lola. Make me think of Halle again. Very original. I’m going to hang up now.”
“Wait! Jake, it’s not Lola. It’s me, Halle. I need your help.” Halle gripped the telephone anxiously.
“You can’t be Halle.” His voice cracked.
“Why not?”
“Because Halle died a year ago.” Jake hung up the phone, and the dial tone blared in her ear.
Halle’s blood went cold, and she rushed over to a storefront, looking into the big reflective windows. She was met with a ghastly sight. Dead black eyes, pale white skin, and a large, crimson slash cutting across her neck. Her fingers crept to the cut on her neck, and she pulled away, disgusted. Dried blood coated her fingers. Suddenly, she realized where she had been for the last year.