Elara didn't open the door. She couldn't. Her body refused to move, every muscle locked in place as if something deep inside her understood what her mind didn't. Silence filled the room again. Too sudden. Too complete. The presence behind the door was gone or worse it was waiting.
Morning came like nothing had happened. Soft light filtered through the curtains, warm and harmless. The kind of light that made everything feel normal. Too normal. Elara sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the door. Closed. Still. Like it had never moved. I heard it, she whispered to herself. I know I did. But no proof. No sign. Just that voice still echoing in her head. You came back. Downstairs, the house felt different. Alive. The same woman stood in the kitchen, her back turned. You are awake, she said. Not a question. Elara hesitated before replying yeah...a pause. Then did you sleep well? The knife in the woman's hand stopped mid air. Just for a second. But Elara noticed. I guess, she said carefully. The woman resumed cutting, slow and precise. Good, she replied. Too calm. Too controlled. Like the answer mattered more than it should. The Town looked busier in daylight. But not alive.
People walked the streets, yes but something was off. No one laughed. No one spoke loudly. No one looked at each other for Too long. And when they looked at Elara, they looked away too quickly. Like they recognized her or were afraid to.
At school, it got worse. The moment she stepped into the hallway. Silence. Not complete. But enough to feel it. Whispers followed her like shadows. Is that...she's back...I thought she...Elara's chest tightened. Back? She gripped the strap of her bag harder and kept walking, forcing herself not to react. Don't show weakness. That instinct came naturally. Too naturally. Hey. The voice came from her left. Soft. Normal. Elara turned. A boy stood there, leaning casually against the lockers. Dark hair. Warm eyes, too warm for this place.