It was Friday again, and for the past few days, I hadn't seen Zia. It looked like she hadn't attended school for almost a week.
An ache formed in my chest — I tried to ignore it, but the more I thought about her absence, the heavier it felt. I was worried about her, though I couldn't understand why.
As I walked through the HUMSS building, the hallway felt strangely empty. The sound of footsteps echoed faintly against the tiled floor. I didn't even know what to do with this feeling — confusion, worry, maybe guilt. I just knew I needed some kind of validation, something to make sense of it.
I found myself standing in front of her classroom door. Without thinking, I stepped inside and glanced around, scanning every seat.
She wasn't there.
That's when I noticed Marianne — her closest friend — holding her phone, talking in a low but sharp voice. As she walked past me, her words cut through the air like a blade.
"You know what, liking that woman won't help you succeed in life. And if she doesn't like you, then find someone else," she said, her tone laced with irritation. Her eyes flicked toward me, fierce and deliberate.
The moment froze.
I didn't need to ask who she was talking to. I could sense it — she was on a call with Zia.
I swallowed hard and looked away, pretending not to care. My footsteps echoed softly as I walked past her and headed down the stairs, feeling a strange heaviness in my chest.
That's when I saw Ezekiel.
He was waiting near the lower steps, leaning casually against the railing, that familiar teasing smile already forming on his lips.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone annoyingly playful.
"It's none of your business," I said coldly, brushing past him without another glance.
But he wasn't satisfied leaving me alone.
Ezekiel followed me around like a little puppy — though to be clear, he wasn't cute. Not at all.
"Tell me, who are you up to?" he teased, refusing to stop, his grin stretching wider with every step.
I stopped and turned sharply, meeting his gaze with eyes that could burn through steel. That was the only thing that ever made him shut up.
"Uhm…" he muttered, his confidence flickering as he looked away, suddenly worried for himself.
I walked past him again without another word and didn't bother to look back.
When I entered our classroom, I noticed my classmates gathered near the back — right around my desk. Their chatter was loud, filled with laughter and teasing.
As I approached, the group scattered like startled birds, pretending to be busy.
That's when I saw it.
A bouquet sat neatly on my desk — wrapped with satin ribbons, decorated with glitter, and threaded with tiny rainbow lights that softly blinked like stars. It looked too delicate, too intentional.
"I bet it's from Eunice," Cassandra said, her tone dripping with mischief.
The class erupted with laughter, teasing Eunice non-stop.
I didn't smile. I didn't even react. I just stood there, staring at the bouquet as a strange weight settled in my chest.
"No, it's not mine," Eunice said sharply, shooting Cassandra a cold glare before storming out of the room.
The laughter died down.
I reached out and touched the bouquet carefully — the petals were real, still cool with dew, and they smelled faintly of jasmine and apple. Whoever made this… took their time.
"A woman from HUMSS put it there," Allyza said from behind me.
I turned around quickly, surprised.
"What did she look like?" I asked, my tone a little too urgent.
"I don't think she was the one who owned it," Allyza replied thoughtfully. "She said it was from her friend."
Her friend.
My mind immediately went to one person — Nickzia.
But how?
We weren't even okay.
I shook my head, trying to push away the thought. I decided I'd take the bouquet home and look at it more carefully there.
The day passed too quickly after that — the lessons were just a blur of noise and whispers.
Before I realized it, the final bell rang, signaling the end of our last period.
Everyone rushed out, their laughter echoing through the hallway.
I was the last to leave.
The classroom was quiet now, the bouquet glowing faintly on my desk under the dim orange light of the setting sun.
Something about it felt strange.
Familiar.
Almost… haunting.
I reached for the small card tucked between the flowers — my fingers hesitating just above it.
There was a name written on it.
But before I could read it —
the lights suddenly flickered off..
I reach out, my fingers brushing against the cold surface of the table.
I'm too blind for this.
And I guess this is really one of my weaknesses — the dark.
I crawl under the table, trembling, and before I know it, tears are already falling.
"Leil?"
A familiar voice calls out to me.
But the darkness presses harder against my mind,
and it hits me so deep that I can't move —
not even breathe.
Then everything goes blank.