I had almost been late for class. Panic gripped my chest as I dashed through the crowded halls, desperate to get to my locker before the bell rang. I hadn't realised how late I'd slept in until I was rushing through the corridors, and to make things worse, my parents were out of town for the week.
I threw my locker open and grabbed my history books, shoving them into my bag without a second thought. Mr. Andre's class was the last one I needed to be late for.
I sprinted down the hallway, barely managing to breathe, and felt a wave of relief when I saw Mr. Andre still hadn't arrived.
I quietly slipped into an empty chair at the back of the classroom, my chest heaving, eyes already heavy with exhaustion. The nightmares had been relentless, tearing at the edges of my sleep, leaving me drained and shaken. My face was pale, a ghostly reflection of how I felt inside.
I tried to focus on the blackboard, but the effort felt impossible. My eyelids kept drooping, the world spinning just beneath the surface. And before I knew it, everything went black.
A loud noise tore me from the darkness. The sound hit me like a physical blow, and I jolted awake, losing my balance and crashing to the floor with a loud thud. The sharp pain in my head brought my senses into focus, and the reality of the classroom came rushing back.
The entire class was staring at me.
"Good morning, Miss Wands. I hope you had a nice nap," Mr. Andre's voice dripped with sarcasm.
My face flushed a deep crimson. "Uh—yes, um—I'm... nervous," I stammered, trying to pull myself together.
"Planning to stay on the floor for the rest of the class?" Mr. Andre's tone was mocking, and the class burst into laughter. The sound felt like a thousand tiny knives, each one cutting deeper into my already fragile composure.
I scrambled to my feet, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. "And may I ask," Mr. Andre continued, "what's making you so nervous, Miss Wands?"
My mind raced. Why had I said that? Nervous? I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt anything but terror.
I glanced around the room, searching for an excuse, anything. My gaze landed on the answer sheets on Mr. Andre's desk. Without thinking, I blurted out, "The results... the results are making me nervous."
Mr. Andre's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the answer sheets. The results from our recent exam. I didn't care about the grades—I didn't care about anything anymore—but it was the only excuse I could muster in that moment.
"If that's what's bothering you," he said, "I'll hand them out now."
Groans filled the room, eyes glaring at me with a venom I couldn't escape. They hated me for dragging attention to myself, for being a walking disaster.
I slunk back into my seat, the weight of a hundred glares pressing down on me.
I had never been the charming, popular student. The one everyone looked to for answers. No, I was the quiet one. The weird one. The one they all avoided unless they needed something.
A loser.
I gazed out the window, lost in the sight of a butterfly fluttering in the breeze. It was so carefree, unaware of how beautiful it was. If I could be anything, I thought, I would be that. Free.
But then a rush of cold air hit me, sharp and sudden, and I felt something... a presence. A slap on the back of my head.
"Ouch."
I snapped back to reality, my breath catching. Mr. Andre was standing over me, his shadow looming like a threat.
"Lost in dreamland again, aren't we Miss Wands?"
I flinched at the question. My pulse quickened. Dreamland. What a perfect word for the state I'd been in lately—caught between the waking world and whatever nightmare was chasing me.
"I don't know what's going on with you these days, Piper," Mr. Andre said, his tone colder now, more calculating. "You used to be one of my top students. But lately, your work's been slipping. I don't want to have to call your father. I suggest you get your act together."
I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, that this was more than just grades. But I couldn't. His voice felt like a trap, like the words were wrapped in something darker, something that felt wrong.
He slammed my mark sheet down on the desk, his hands lingering just a second too long, and then he turned away. "If anyone needs help with their work, come to me. I'll be right here."
I stared at my paper: another bad grade. A grade that never changed. Never got better, never got worse. Just stuck.
It wasn't the numbers that bothered me—it was the feeling that came with them. The constant sense that I wasn't in control of anything anymore. That something was lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to slip.
"Another bad day?"
Maria's voice sliced through the fog in my mind, sharp and clear. Her eyes, dark and always filled with too much concern, studied me like I was a puzzle she couldn't solve. Maria, with her curly hair and chocolate-tan skin, had been this way since kindergarten—always the one to worry, to hover, to ask questions she knew I wouldn't answer. But that didn't stop her from asking anyway. That was just... Maria.
"Yeah..." I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "Just... just tired."
"You look more than tired."
Yara's voice was soft but sharp, the kind that carried an unspoken weight. She was the laid-back one, always too chill, but I knew the truth. Only Maria and I knew how much rage she could hide behind that calm demeanour. Yara, with her short, soft wavy hair and snow-like skin, watched me with those deep blue eyes, framed by her Harry Potter-like glasses. She was as close to me as Maria, and she knew when something was off.
"You look like you're somewhere else," she said, her gaze drilling into me. "Is something going on?"
I barely heard them, the noise of the classroom blending into one indistinguishable hum. My fingers fidgeted with the bracelet on my wrist, the one I couldn't explain. It had become an obsession, something I couldn't shake, even if I wanted to.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice too flat, too distant.
But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true. None of it was.
"Piper, seriously, what's going on?" Maria pressed. Her voice was softer now, but there was an urgency beneath it. "You've been acting strange for days now."
I looked up at her, my heart thumping in my chest. Strange? Was I really acting strange? Or was I just losing it?
"I'm fine!" I snapped, too quickly, too defensively. "I'm fine. There's nothing going on. Just... just drop it."
Maria's eyes softened, but Yara spoke up, her voice a little more lighthearted than usual. "I did see Mr.Andre, distributing the answers."
"Good, because it's not about him," I said, my voice cold. I didn't want to talk about him. I didn't want to talk about anything. Not now.
Maria's expression shifted. She clearly wanted to say more, but she held back. "Okay, if you really need space, we'll give it to you. But just know, you don't have to go through this alone."
I nodded stiffly, feeling the tension between us grow. I wasn't part of the trio anymore. Not really. I was something else—someone alone.
"I just need some time alone," I muttered, my eyes darting to the door. "I'll be fine."
Yara gave me a look, her lips curling into a small frown. "If you say so. But remember, you can talk to us, anytime."
I didn't look back as I walked out of the room, the cool air hitting my face like a slap. The weight of the silence followed me down the hall. I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was, it was getting closer.