The night was as dark as it could get, with no hint of light sneaking through my window.
After a loud "pop" sound followed by my alarm clock filled the silence of sleep, jolting me awake and shaking off the last remnants of drowsiness, I woke up with an unbearable headache...
Ugh, great way to start the day.
My room felt like a freezer, the chill seeping through my bones and making me shiver. Surprisingly, my bed seemed even more inviting than it did the night before, its warmth tempting me to stay just a little longer. Despite the struggle to shake off the heavy fog of sleep, I knew I couldn't afford to be late.
I hurried through my morning routine, trying to tick off all the tasks on my list before heading out to face the day. Double-checking my pockets and bag, I made sure I had everything I needed for the day ahead.
The walk to the bus stop felt endless, each step feeling heavier as the cold air seemed to wrap around me, trying to steal away my warmth. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, hoping it would trap some heat and keep me warm a bit longer. The wait at the bus stop only made it worse, the biting cold making every minute feel like an eternity.
The bus was way louder than usual for a morning, when most were groggy, making it a headache to come with kids chatting and laughing instead of catching a few more minutes of sleep like they usually did. Typically, while most kids were dozing off, I was wide awake, scrolling through news articles or browsing videos, depending on my mood. This time, though, I wanted something different, so I opened up an actual news app rather than random clickbait, hoping to find something new and interesting instead of the same old stuff that kept popping up.
You'd think I'd have learned as the weeks dragged on, or learned from one weekend to the next, but somehow, every week, the memory of just how hot the bus gets slips my mind without fail. It's like the bus driver's idea of making us comfortable is to turn the heating up to the max, as if they're trying to cook us into human steamed dumplings before we even set foot in our first class of the day.
Finally, I spotted the school up ahead. It was made up of two concrete buildings that weren't exactly a sight for sore eyes. The first building was three stories high, way bigger than it needed to be, or probably even allowed to be. The second building was smaller and looked like it had seen better days, with years of wear and tear showing on its walls.
As I got closer, the freezing cold outside started to feel like a relief compared to the sauna that the bus had turned into. It was a brief respite before stepping into the scorching heat of the high school building. All due to whoever was responsible for the heating not caring to turn it off, similar to the bus driver also content to cook us alive.
As I stepped inside, a hand grasped my shoulder from behind, the grip slightly awkward due to our height difference.
"Yo, Rey! How's it going, man?" It was Yusuf, my best friend, attempting to reach up for that shoulder squeeze. Standing at a modest height compared to his larger-than-life temperament, he had to tilt his head back to meet my gaze. His light brown eyes had a mischievous look, paired with a smile that always seemed to be plotting some sort of mischief. His medium-length hair was tousled, a clear sign of his morning rush.
"Not much, bro. Just the usual morning routine, you know?", I responded nonchalantly. Yusuf fell into step beside me as we made our way to our first class of the day.
"I know, Rey, but man, have you heard the news? Some freak accidents happened today, and one was even across town." Yusuf said, waving his hands around for dramatic effect, which was so typical of him.
Freak accidents? I hadn't seen anything about that when I was scrolling through the news this morning. What did he even mean by 'freak accidents'? Knowing Yusuf, it's probably just some silly thing like last time, when people were breaking into houses just to toast their bread. That was pretty ridiculous.
"Hey, what do you mean by 'freak accidents'? Not only do you always use that term, but knowing you, it's probably something stupid," I said, giving Yusuf a playful scolding tone as we wandered the halls, deliberately delaying our arrival to class for a few more minutes.
"Come on, man, if you knew that some random store clerk started attacking customers this morning, you wouldn't be laughing. Eight people got injured, and the same thing happened at the store next door. I only know about it because my dad was nearby when it happened," Yusuf replied, his usually mischievous face suddenly serious, alarmingly out of character for him.
"Oh crap, man, I'm really sorry to hear that. Is your dad okay? That sounds really scary," I asked, my voice tinged with genuine concern.
"Yeah, yeah, don't stress about it," Yusuf replied, his shoulders dropping a little as he visibly relaxed, trying to brush off the gravity of the situation.
It took us barely a minute to reach our classroom. As we entered, we automatically reached for our phones and stowed them away in the assigned pockets at the front of the room, following our usual pre-class routine.
"Ugh, it's so annoying that we have to put our phones away just for attendance. What if there's an emergency?" Yusuf complained, his tone dripping with annoyance. Deep down, though, I knew he was just looking for an excuse to slack off in class. Still, he had a point about the emergency situation, even though we hadn't experienced one since that incident years ago in this prison-like school.
"Yeah, like you're fooling anyone with that slacker attitude. And why on earth do we have English first thing in the morning? My brain can't even process anything at this horribly early hour," I grumbled, pushing past Yusuf to get to my seat. The classroom was dimly lit by lamps, casting a dull glow that did little to shake off the morning drowsiness that seemed to hang in the air, tempting those of us struggling to stay awake.
"Ready for the test?" I added, trying to inject some fake enthusiasm into my voice as I glanced over at Yusuf a few seats away. His eyes widened in panic for a split second before he realized I was messing with him, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the reactions from the students around us.
And so the class dragged on with its usual routine of reading, writing, and annotating, each minute feeling like an eternity as the clock ticked closer to the end of the period. Just when I thought I could make it through without any interruptions, I suddenly felt the urgent need to use the bathroom. I raised my hand to ask the teacher, who gave me a disapproving look before reluctantly granting permission.
"I told you she doesn't like me," I muttered as I passed by Yusuf's seat, which was tucked away in the corner near the door.
"Sure, man, I'm starting to believe you. Especially after she gave you all those 50s. Although, I've got to say, your drawings are still a—" Yusuf was saying, his voice dropping to a whisper, before he caught himself, realizing I was already walking away in the suddenly silent classroom.
The building was eerily quiet, the only light coming from the classroom doors rather than the dim morning sun filtering through the windows. The design of the three-story building was quite peculiar, with a patio in the middle that gave it an odd square donut shape from above. The old metal window frames were painted a faded blue, and the plants in the patio were finally starting to come back to life, a bit late as spring was already giving way to summer.
Having to trek all the way to the other side of the building just to use the bathroom was annoying, and I had to make it quick to get back in time so I wouldn't miss anything important. I thought about asking Yusuf for his notes, but knowing him, he probably didn't have much to offer. It was a mystery how he managed to pass his classes, let alone score higher than me in some subjects. It just went to show how competitive the environment at our school was, even if the school itself tried to deny it.
Finally, I spotted salvation. In the dim light of the corridor, a simple sign hung on the door, its white silhouette standing out starkly against the polished wood. It displayed the universal symbols for men and women, silently directing visitors to their respective sanctuaries. The sign was modest, but its message was unmistakably clear and universally understood, serving as a beacon of relief for those in need — which, at that moment, was definitely me.
I rounded the corner, picking up my pace with the fastest walk I could muster, trying to avoid drawing attention. As I passed a noisy classroom, it was clear it was filled with freshmen. How the school decided to lump us seniors in with them on the floor furthest from the office was still a generational mystery to me. They were always so strict and seemed to take pleasure in being rude to "anyone who dared cross their path," as we joked and tried to make light of their frustrating antics.
And as I finally reached my true beacon of hope, the men's restroom, I realized I'd forgotten to sneak my phone along for some entertainment while taking care of business. I cursed my forgetfulness but didn't stay on it. Stepping inside, I saw the all time typical bathroom walls which were lined with white tiles, many of which were clearly cracked. The floor, made of what looked like old porcelain, was covered in patterned tiles laid haphazardly wherever they would fit and occasionally where they wouldn't. It was the kind of sloppy work that would frustrate anyone, except perhaps the person who'd done the job and their likely absent supervisor.
Just a minute or so later, I was done and washing my hands when I heard the school's rarely-used alarm blare, "School Lockdown, School Lockdown," before abruptly cutting off.
I hadn't been warned about any drill. Could this really be a surprise drill? We always got warnings ahead of time. Or was this an actual emergency? We supposedly had good cameras and people watching them to monitor any suspicious activity, though I doubted their effectiveness. This kind of situation was unusual. Could it be an active shooter?
Panic started to set in.
What do I do? Where do I go? I need to get to a classroom, fast.
My thoughts were racing faster than my body could move, freezing me in place for a split second before I snapped into action. I pushed open the heavy door and tried to sprint towards the nearest classroom, which I was pretty sure was the loud one I'd passed earlier.
But as I moved, I was met with something I couldn't even begin to comprehend.
What stood before me wasn't a shooter, and it sure as hell wasn't human. It looked as if something vaguely resembling a human had been turned inside out, with its body's seams charred to a crisp. Its head was a grotesque abomination, resembling a fleshy accordion. Each side of its gaping maw was lined with dozens of eyes, all fixated on me. Its pale arms had burns around the wrists and ended in two large, fleshy fingers, each tipped with a long, jagged nail. Its feet were even stranger, each resembling a single toe with a similar nail at the tip.
Before I could even consider the possibility that it might be some kind of hoax, the creature locked its multitude of eyes onto mine. Its gaze was more chilling than anything I could have imagined, resembling the depths of an abyss. In an instant, it lunged across the hallway towards me, disappearing from its original position, revealing a shattered window behind where it had stood.
In a blind panic, I dashed back into the bathroom, yanking the door shut behind me and diving into the furthest stall from the entrance. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to stifle my breathing, praying the creature wouldn't be able to force the door open. The only sound was a relentless pounding, growing louder and more frantic just as my heart did. Then, a chilling scream echoed through the hallway and into the restroom. It was clear the creature had found someone else to replace me. It was a few seconds before another joined its cacophony of screams and chaos, yet I just stood, paralyzed, just there motionless, unable to do anything.
Everything went silent, yet I knew it could be right outside my stall, waiting for the slightest misstep.
Why was this happening to me? Everything had been going so well. I'd improved my life quality, made some great friends, applied for a job, and was planning to ask for a girl's number later today. I was even looking forward to pulling another all-nighter with my friends.
But why me?
Why?
Life was finally going well after all this time, so why?
What did I do to deserve this?
At least I wasn't part of the echoing screams, but I was stuck, and most likely about to join their ranks.
So why me? Out of everybody in the world,, why was I the one stuck in this pitiful stall in a dilapidated high-school restroom?
Why me? I wanted to live, but what even was after death? Would there be a heaven or hell waiting for me? Would it even be worse than this purgatory which I was helplessly trapped in?
Or would pure nothingness be there for me, bringing me neither solace nor suffering for all of eternity, or would I just stop existing?
This somehow filled me with even more unshakable dread than the monster.
I wanted to do so much in life, I wanted to experience the joys of having a good family, having a girlfriend that truly loved me, maybe being a father I'd never had and give my future family a stability I had never experienced, maybe my kid would even turn out better than me. So why did I have to die now? I wasn't accepting this, wanted to live.
I knew I'd maybe die someday from a unexpected accident as thousands do, the simple thought of this scared me more than anything, more than the monster which even my worst dreams couldn't conjure into something, yet it was reality.
I didn't want to die, I didn't do anything to anyone to deserve this.
So why me?
I hadn't been doing a lot, but I had found to appreciate the little things in life. I had finally learned to love life and it was about to be taken away?
That was so unfair.
I knew life wasn't fair, yet I couldn't move forward, I kept going in a loop I knew I was in, but this was so unfair.
Life is so unfair.
Why me? What did I do to deserve this?
Why?
Because life was unfair?
Why? I wanted to talk to my friends again, talk to my crush, play games, live my life, finally watch the movie I had been waiting for, and eat all kinds of foods. I hadn't noticed, but I was… starving.
Wait– how much time had I spent here?
It felt like an eternity but it could've just been a trick of the mind.
I continued thinking until it dawned on me, a different train of thought, an epiphany.
Maybe I really did deserve this.
I wasn't a great person. I had finally realized I was listening to my mediocre self rather than the screams which had started again, yet subsided after a few long moments. Further away after than what might be this floor, they still could be heard echoing throughout the building.
I wanted to change, I wanted to live, but I lived such a bad life, and had nobody to blame but myself.
I rarely did anything. I barely had any motivation. I tried to change myself, but I never truly loved myself or succeeded for more than a few weeks.
I wanted to run away, not just from the monster but my thoughts.
I hated myself.
But I wanted to live.
Why couldn't I get a chance to change?
I wanted to be better.
Nothing could be worse than dreading my fate every second, not knowing whether I'd live or die, while I wallowed in self-pity.
If life gave me another chance, I'd take it.
No matter what, I wanted to change, and if I saw the slightest chance, I would take it. I would try to save the sources of those desperate scream although I know I'm a coward at heart.
I had no escape, nothing but my own self-pitying thoughts which allowed me to indulge in my own whining while lives full of potential were snuffed out, right outside my door.
Not only the door of the stall, but the door of the restroom, but not only the door of the restroom. But also the door in my mind., I didn't know how to change, how to move forward.
I couldn't ignore the screams.
And yet the only other thing I could hear was my own ragged breathing. The only thing I could feel was hunger. And the only thing I could seem to do was wallow in my own self pity.
That was until I heard something, a different, closer scream, a resounding cry for help right outside my door.
It felt like what I had wanted, too close to what I wanted, maybe a trap by the monster, but I didn't care anymore, my life had been truly worthless up to this point.
I wanted to change, and my chance was here, maybe if I just saved this one person I could get past this mental block of fear and self-pity to be a better person?
I made the decision almost instantly.
It didn't matter what I did anymore, I didn't give it much thought.
I rushed forward, struggling slightly with the simple stall lock, and pushed the heavy door open with all the strength I could muster before it was too late to get my chance.