Aurex slumped against the door, a tremor running through him. The familiar, practiced smile was plastered on his face, a stark contrast to the silent tears tracing paths down his cheeks. He made no move to wipe them, dared not even shift.
That wasn't my mother.
A desperate part of him yearned to deny it, to twist the horrifying image into a nightmare, a trick of the dim light. But it was etched into his mind: the colossal, weeping eyes; the grotesque, contorted grin; a body that moved like hers, yet felt utterly alien. He'd clung to the desperate hope that they,these imposters,were like him, trapped and terrified, too afraid to speak and maybe will wake up someday. Now, he questioned if that hope was anything more than a shield against a horrifying truth.
Yet, a stubborn ember refused to die. If I woke up, they can too. I have to believe that.
Time dissolved into an agonizing blur as he remained hunched, arms wrapped around his knees, barely breathing.
Then,
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Three chimes. Ten o'clock. The sleep bell.
A crushing wave of exhaustion immediately swept over him. No. Not now. Not tonight. He pushed himself up, his legs trembling, and stumbled to his bed. He sat with his back pressed against the wall, eyes wide open, terrified to close them, to let his guard down. Sleep clawed at him, his limbs growing heavy, his thoughts fraying at the edges. He blinked slowly, fighting, forcing his eyes to remain open.
Don't blink. Don't sleep.
The room was silent, unnerving. Then,a sound. Faint, barely there, like a breath drawn through a tiny crack. He whipped his head around. Nothing. He gently rested his head on the pillow, eyes still fixed.
And then,
It opened.
A single, colossal eye. Blood-red, veined, it filled his entire vision, staring directly at him. There was no face, no body,just the eye, impossibly close, as if it had always been there, waiting. Aurex's throat constricted. His heart screamed for him to panic.
But he didn't flinch. Didn't speak. Didn't blink.
The eye pulsed, its black pupil dilating and shrinking, as if it were observing something far deeper than his mere reflection. He had no concept of how long they stared, locked in that terrifying gaze. Seconds bled into minutes; time itself folded into a suffocating fear. His eyes burned, his vision wavered. He yearned to blink more than anything.
But he remembered the boy's warning: Keep your eyes open. Don't speak.
And then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the eye closed,not vanishing, but simply shutting like a massive, silent door. A rush of air, as if an enormous weight had been lifted, flowed from the room. He gasped, and then, without conscious thought, his body slumped sideways. Sleep dragged him down, a stone sinking into a fathomless black sea.
He woke to the familiar chiming of bells. Six o'clock. He was still dressed, still on the bed, still alive. The door creaked open gently.
"Aurex, time to wake up, dear," his mother's voice, light and warm, just like every morning.
He shot upright, the memory of last night washing over him like an icy plunge. She stepped inside, smiling, holding a glass of orange juice. The same smile. The same serene demeanor. As if nothing had changed. But he couldn't look at her the same way.
He got up and walked to her, slowly, carefully. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.
"I love you," he whispered, his voice tight with unshed emotion. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner."
She let out a small, cheerful laugh. "Oh, I love you too, sweetheart," she said, and then turned to leave. She didn't ask why he'd said it. She didn't hesitate. She simply walked out, humming the same tune she always did.
But Aurex didn't sit back down. He stood there, watching the door close. His eyes were wide open, and the practiced smile remained firmly in place. But inside, a fire raged.
That wasn't my mother. He whispered the words to himself, quiet and brutally honest. That wasn't my mother.
He turned to face his reflection in the mirror across the room. The same boy stared back. Pale. Tired. Still pretending to be normal.
But now, something behind his eyes had irrevocably changed.
He wasn't just afraid anymore.
He was awake.