A mysterious silence had settled over the school. It was not the kind of quiet that brings peace; it was heavy, almost suffocating, seeping into every classroom, corridor, and forgotten corner. The stillness was so absolute that even the softest rustle of a book's pages sounded like a shout in the empty hallways. Dust motes floated lazily in the faint streams of sunlight breaking through cracked windows, and the dim fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, adding a sense of unease to the already tense atmosphere. Each creak of the old wooden floorboards seemed amplified, as though the building itself were holding its breath.
And then came the growls. Low, guttural, echoing through the halls in waves that seemed to shake the walls themselves. The sound was not human, yet it carried an anger and hunger so vivid that it felt almost sentient. It was as if countless creatures were expressing their primal instincts in unison, a chorus of menace that made the very air tremble. Students who had once filled the classrooms with chatter and laughter were now frozen in place, their eyes wide, hearts pounding, as the sound rolled over them again and again.
Miss Selena's voice, normally calm and soothing, had vanished after reading the letter over the loudspeaker. The words she had spoken lingered in the air, hanging like invisible threads, tugging at the minds of those who had heard them. Students sat still, their gazes fixed on nothing, as if lost in a world where the present had slipped away and only echoes remained. The letter itself had become something more than ink on paper; it was a living, breathing reminder of emotions too deep to ignore, of confessions that had waited too long to be spoken.
At the center of it all stood Rozi. She was no longer merely a girl with a name and a heart; she had transformed into something other, something caught between life and death. She swayed slightly in the middle of the classroom, her eyes dark but glimmering faintly with what remained of her humanity. The loudspeaker in the corner flickered and hummed, and Rozi's gaze fixed upon it, her movements unsteady, her growls joining the symphony of inhuman sounds that filled the school. Her face was pale, almost skeletal, yet those who dared look closely could still see the flicker of emotion lingering behind her hollow eyes. Memories of laughter, of unspoken words, of a love that had never been voiced, haunted her even now.
Below, in the basement basketball hall, Steven's world was no less strange or terrifying. The hall, normally vibrant with the sounds of bouncing basketballs and cheering teammates, now lay in shadow. Broken benches, torn nets, and scuffed floors reflected the dim light that filtered through dusty windows. Around him moved figures he once knew: teammates, friends, now transformed into beings like himself, hollow shells of their former selves, wearing blood-stained uniforms that bore the marks of struggle and decay. Their movements were erratic, unsteady, pulled by some unseen force, and yet there was a rhythm to the chaos that made it all the more horrifying.
Steven stood apart yet not alone, identifiable only by the name stitched across the back of his shirt. His movements were mechanical, automatic, as though guided by some invisible hand, while the emotions that once defined him remained trapped inside, unreachable, fading into memories. The hall echoed with the groans and shuffles of the other boys, a chorus that blended fear and emptiness, a reminder that the world he had once known no longer existed.
In that space between life and death, Rozi and Steven existed as mirrors of one another. Neither truly alive, nor fully gone, they were suspended in a liminal world where hope and love had no foothold. Their connection, once tender and full of potential, had been reduced to whispers in the shadows, memories that haunted the halls of the school as surely as the sound of growls and the flicker of broken lights.
It was a sight that would pierce any human heart. A love that might have blossomed, now extinguished before it had the chance to take root. A cruel reminder of time's relentless march, which spares no one and allows no second chances. Rozi's feelings, once burning bright within her chest, now existed only as echoes, dissolving into the silence that enveloped the school.
Even in this unnatural quiet, there remained a lesson. Time does not wait. Opportunities to express love, to speak truth, to act on the heart's deepest desires, can slip away in an instant. And when they do, there may be nothing left but echoes—faint, haunting reminders of what could have been.
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"If anyone reading this finds themselves lost in unspoken feelings," the note at the end of the letter read, "know this: express your love without delay. Time is not your friend. Act before the moment passes, for once it is gone, there is no returning. Share your stories, and let your heart be heard."
Writer: Youzaina
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Good luck 🤞🏻