I nearly crashed into the door as I reached my house. My body was still surging with adrenaline, but my movements were clumsy, my limbs barely obeying me. I took a sharp turn at the entrance, but my momentum was too strong—I had to slap my palms against the ground just to slow down, the rough concrete scraping against my skin. My breath came out in ragged gasps, burning my throat.
The moment I reached the door, I yanked it open without a second thought, throwing myself inside and slamming it shut behind me. The loud BANG echoed through the small space, but I didn't care. My back hit the door as I slid down to the floor, my sweat-soaked clothes clinging to my skin. My chest heaved, struggling to catch up with my frantic heartbeat.
Then, footsteps. Quick and hurried.
Sugar and Monica rushed out from the kitchen, their faces filled with concern. Monica barely spared me a glance before stopping in her tracks, her expression unreadable as usual. Sugar, on the other hand, panicked the moment she saw me.
"Hey, what's going on?!" Her voice was sharp, frantic. She took a step closer, but I didn't respond.
My thoughts were tangled in something else. My mind was refusing to let go of what had just happened.
That thing was real. It touched me. It actually touched me.
I forced myself to stand, ignoring the way my legs trembled beneath me. Still breathing heavily, I reached for the doorknob with shaky fingers and peeked outside. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
But there was nothing.
"…Huh?"
Panic flared through me. I fumbled with the lock, yanking the door open and stepping outside. My eyes darted across the empty street, searching—It was just here. I know it was.
But the world outside looked just as it always did. Silent. Still. As if nothing had ever been there to begin with.
I swallowed hard. What the hell?
And then—movement. A silhouette.
I stiffened.
A block away, standing beneath the dim glow of a streetlight, was a woman.
Her.
The same woman I had encountered that morning. She was staring directly at me.
A chill crawled up my spine.
I blinked. Just once. In the mere moment it took to shut and reopen my eyes—she was gone.
My blood turned to ice.
My brain—shut off.
For a few seconds, nothing processed. My thoughts ground to a halt, like gears suddenly jammed by an unseen force. I stared at the now-empty space where she had been, my breath shallow.
There's nothing here to prove that any of this happened.
But this time, I was sure.
I was sure it was real.
But… was it?
"You okay?"
Sugar's voice snapped me back. Before I realized it, she had rushed over, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.
"What happened?" she asked again, softer this time.
She leaned closer, her fingers gently brushing against my face, warm and steady. Somehow, the simple touch grounded me, pulling me back from the edge of whatever spiral I had nearly fallen into.
For a second, I debated telling her.
But… no.
I forced my face into something neutral, pressing my lips together as she continued to study me. Her worried eyes lingered, waiting for an answer.
"…A dog."
It was the only thing that came out.
It was a lie, of course. But I kept my face blank, my voice steady, hiding the chaos beneath the surface.
–––
Later that night, during dinner, Sugar could barely contain her laughter. She leaned forward dramatically, grinning as she recounted the story.
"So," she started, her voice full of amusement. "He comes sprinting into the house, slams the door like a maniac, and just stands there, panting like he ran a damn marathon."
She let out a chuckle, shaking her head.
"We were so confused! So, I asked him what the hell happened, and guess what he said?"
The whole table leaned in, curiosity flickering in their eyes—except for Monica, who remained silent, and Sugar herself, who was already grinning, barely able to hold back.
"A dog."
That was it. That was the moment she lost it.
Sugar burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as she replayed the absurdity of it all.
Dad and the others exchanged baffled glances before joining in, laughter rippling across the room.
Still chuckling, Sugar wiped a tear from her eye. "It wasn't even a big dog!" she added between giggles. "Just a stray! And you should've seen him—when he spotted me, he ran straight at me like a scared little kid and jumped on me! Like, full-on clinging! His face—" she mimicked a terrified expression, exaggerating it beyond belief, "—you'd think a lion was chasing him!"
The laughter grew louder.
"And the best part?" Sugar took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "He was this close to crying in my arms."
She turned toward me, grinning. "Isn't that right?"
I simply stared at her, my expression flat. She's exaggerating on purpose. She's trying to see if I'll react, trying to check if I'm actually part of the conversation.
I didn't give her the satisfaction.
"You're exaggerating it," I deadpanned.
She only smirked.
But then—
"So what?"
The voice that interrupted was sharp, sarcastic.
Melissa.
I already knew it wouldn't be anything good.
"Was it some kind of past trauma?" she mused, swirling her spoon lazily. "You know, from when you lived on the streets?"
The room fell into immediate silence.
A thick, heavy quiet.
Melissa had said it to demean me, and she didn't even bother hiding it.
I never cared about her words before. Right now, they made things easier for me.
They gave me a reason to leave.
"That was uncalled for," Sugar snapped, her tone laced with anger.
"That was rude, Melissa," Dad added, his usual warmth replaced with disappointment.
Monica remained silent. Just observing.
Melissa, of course, just shrugged. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I was just curious." Then, she chuckled, shaking her head. "I mean, don't you see the irony? A guy who lived on the streets being scared of street dogs? Come on, that's kinda funny."
Sugar's expression twisted into pure rage. "Apologize."
She was seething.
I exhaled, forcing a small, fake laugh.
"Hey, it's fine," I said, shrugging. "It does have some kind of irony."
Sugar shot me a look—one I couldn't quite decipher.
I ignored it.
Dad sighed and told both of them to drop the subject and focus on eating.
I saw my chance.
Without another word, I set down my spoon, forced down the storm of emotions swelling inside me, and stood.
"I'm done. Thanks for the food."
All eyes turned to me, but no one said anything as I walked away.
–––
In my room, I locked the door behind me.
I didn't bother turning on the lights.
The darkness felt fitting.
For some reason, my feet carried me to the farthest corner of the room. I sank down, wrapping my arms around my knees, my body folding into itself.
And then, finally—
"Why?"
The word slipped from my lips, barely a whisper.
Why are these things appearing to me in reality?
Why did it attack me?
Why did it feel so real?
Why did it suddenly disappear?
"Why… why… why…?"
The questions poured out.
And no one was there to answer them.