The last thing you notice when you die is the smell.
They never tell you you shit and piss on yourself when you die.
Then there's the darkness.Not just black. Something deeper. The kind that swallows everything. Thoughts too.
Better than blindness.
And then—
I gasped for air.
Shit— I…
I was back.
Back to life.
For a second, dying didn't feel terrifying.
Just… interesting.
The shadows in the classroom looked longer today.
Not just longer.
they looked Wrong.
They stretched further than the light should have allowed, slipping across desks, curling along the walls like something reaching. Like something testing how far it could go before someone noticed.
I sat still.
Watching them.
Or maybe—
They were watching me.
The thought didn't come with fear.
That was the strange part.
It came with awareness.
Like noticing something out of place in a quiet room, and realizing you've been standing in it longer than you should have.
The teacher spoke at the front.
His voice moved.
But it didn't feel like it was moving at the same speed as everything else.
It was… delayed.
A fraction off.
A word stretching just slightly too long before collapsing into the next.
Around me, students shifted in their seats. Pens scratched across paper. Chairs creaked.
But the sounds weren't clean anymore.
They came through… warped.
Slightly distorted.
Like the room was listening to itself through water.
I frowned.
"…what?"
I looked around.
Nothing obvious had changed.
And yet—
Everything had.
A pen sat on the edge of my desk.
I didn't remember placing it there.
My fingers moved toward it.
Slow.
Careful.
Testing.
I picked it up.
Held it for a moment.
Then—
I let it go.
It fell.
And that was when I knew.
Because it didn't fall the way it should have.
It dropped—
But slower.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough.
Enough to feel wrong.
Like gravity had paused for a second before remembering its job.
My hand shot forward.
I caught it.
Too easily.
My fingers closed around the pen midair like it had been waiting for me.
Not resisting.
Not escaping.
Just… there.
I stared at it.
"…that shouldn't—"
My voice stopped.
Not because I lost the thought.
But because something else moved.
Inside the quiet.
Not a sound.
Not a presence in the room.
Something else.
Something brushing against the edges of my mind.
Light.
Subtle.
Intentional.
"You're starting to notice."
The words weren't spoken.
They weren't heard.
They arrived.
Clear.
Direct.
Like they had always been there.
I froze.
The pen slipped slightly in my grip.
"…who's there?"
Silence.
But it wasn't empty.
It felt… aware.
Like the room had leaned in just slightly.
Watching.
Waiting.
I looked up.
The classroom hadn't changed.
Students were still writing.
Talking.
Breathing.
Living in a world that seemed perfectly normal.
Nothing about them had reacted.
Nothing about them had shifted.
But me—
I felt it.
The difference.
The fracture.
"…no," I muttered under my breath.
"This isn't normal."
The words sounded strange as I said them.
Not because they were wrong.
But because they felt obvious.
Too obvious.
Like something I should have realized earlier.
My grip tightened around the pen.
"Am I…"
I hesitated.
The thought felt heavier than the words.
"…different?"
The room didn't answer.
But something in the silence shifted.
Subtle.
Almost pleased.
I exhaled slowly.
Forced my shoulders to relax.
Forced my breathing to steady.
"Just… stress," I told myself quietly.
"Everything's fine."
The pen lay still in my hand now.
Normal again.
Ordinary.
Unremarkable.
I placed it back on the desk.
Let my fingers rest.
Let the moment pass.
But the feeling—
Didn't.
Something lingered.
Not loud.
Not intrusive.
Just…
There.
Watching.
I shifted in my seat.
The shadows along the wall seemed to stretch just a little further.
Not enough to be obvious.
But enough to feel deliberate.
I glanced toward the window.
Just for a second.
Just to check.
Nothing unusual.
Trees.
Sky.
Light.
Still.
Calm.
Safe.
For a moment—
I believed it.
Then—
Something moved.
Not inside the room.
Outside.
A shape.
Subtle.
Fast.
Too fast.
But I saw it.
Just a flicker.
A shift.
Something that shouldn't have been there.
My breath caught.
My eyes stayed locked on the window.
Waiting.
Watching.
But the world—
Didn't react.
No one else looked up.
No one else noticed.
No gasps.
No whispers.
No change.
Just the quiet rhythm of a room that believed nothing had happened.
My fingers tightened slightly against the desk.
"…did anyone else—"
I stopped.
Because I already knew the answer.
And for the first time—
I didn't feel alone.
Not because someone was with me.
But because—
Something else had started watching.
And now—
It was watching me. 😈