It happened the next day.
Not to me.
To someone else.
In class, the teacher asked a question.
An easy one.
Everyone knew the answer.
The other boy knew it too.
I could tell.
He didn't raise his hand.
The teacher waited.
Silence.
She looked at him.
"You," she said. "Answer."
He didn't stand up.
"I don't want to," he said calmly.
The room went quiet.
"I know the answer," he added.
"I just don't want to say it."
A few students laughed nervously.
The teacher frowned.
"This is not how class works."
"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm stopping."
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number:
Watch carefully.
The teacher sent him outside.
No shouting.
No drama.
Just dismissal.
But everyone was staring.
For the first time, he didn't care.
During break, people whispered.
"Did you see that?"
"What's wrong with him?"
He stood near the stairs alone.
I didn't go to him.
My phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number:
This is what refusal looks like.
What happens now? I typed.
The reply came slower than usual.
Unknown Number:
Now the system reacts.
That afternoon, an announcement came.
The other boy had been called to the office.
Everyone watched him walk down the corridor.
Straight back.
Head high.
Not scared.
My phone buzzed one last time.
Unknown Number:
He chose visibility without obedience.
I swallowed.
And you? I typed.
What did you choose?
There was a long pause.
Then:
Unknown Number:
I chose silence.
I stared at the screen.
And for the first time, I understood the danger.
Not of being watched.
But of being seen and controlled.