It’s getting harder to tell what day it is.
Sometimes I wake up in my bed. Sometimes I wake up at my desk. Sometimes I don’t remember falling asleep at all. The sun rises and sets like it’s on fast-forward. I think I’ve stopped eating.
No one knocks on my door anymore.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXRCpwr6mhc
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Or maybe they do and I just don’t hear it.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqDNEkMvyF9
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Today I went outside.
The streets were quiet. No cars. No voices. Just the sound of my own footsteps and the wet hiss of fog curling over the pavement.
I walked to the school — the one Arya and I “went to.” I say it like that because… it’s not there anymore. Just bricks. Crumbled walls. Like something halfway demolished and then forgotten.
I stood in front of the ruins and waited. For her. For a sound. For anything.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXJiR88nK6A
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Instead, I heard… pages turning.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHuhkzEjtpc
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Soft. Steady. Like someone was flipping through a book just behind me.
When I turned around, the town was gone.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSBlToY35ph
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I walked further into the fog.
At first it looked like the forest again — familiar trees, familiar grass. But when I stepped through it, things changed.
The trees were paper-thin. Their bark looked like faded ink. The sky was pale and blank, like an unpainted canvas.
I followed the sound of footsteps — but they were mine.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbMTFIjzCQ5
372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8HocBOpjfR
I followed the sound of a laugh — but it was Zayan’s.
And then I saw her.
Arya.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVu45LiirSc
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Sitting on a bench made of torn book covers, smiling.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsk5b0NZ1JQ
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> “You made it,” she said, softly.
> “What is this place?”
> “This is where you left off,” she said. “The page where you stopped reading.”372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9l9ukcSDDT
372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCQqwR99Pgk
She stood up, held out her hand.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡE9h3G0QjOP
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> “But I remembered you. That’s why I came back.”
I took a step toward her, but something felt wrong. Like the ground wasn’t solid. Like I was sinking into memory.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ11uLwcZXyN
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> “None of this is real,” I whispered.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyjjsh1NtuH
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She didn’t argue. She just kept smiling.
> “Neither is your world anymore.”372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvYo7OyLuCI
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I turned back. Tried to run.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyOGuJ6JpGR
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But the town was gone. The forest was gone.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0dfOAQiisA
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Even the fog was gone.
Just blankness.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFgBBNiZVJl
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Like a page never written.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfqeLWqVzOu
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---
I sat down.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL6gkxNzgAF
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I don’t know for how long.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxAda5VvVOe
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Back in my room — the real room — the wallpaper is peeling. The air smells old. I think I heard my father crying last night. He keeps calling my name. But I don’t open the door. I don’t speak.
Because in my mind… I’m not there anymore.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6oIVWBhUA5
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I’m with her.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKYndYU65Zv
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Where the fog ends.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnzbqN9yf81
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---
I haven’t heard my father’s voice in two days.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwyZH90DwU9
372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlZnJDeEgBV
Or maybe it’s been a week. I don’t know.
I hear sounds outside my door sometimes — soft knocks, low murmurs, the sound of plates clinking — but they feel far away. Like echoes through water.
I think he’s still there. Waiting.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwclkMw17O1
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But I’m not.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxeoM0jwGZS
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Arya visits every day now.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2TY6o9w2Qk
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We don’t talk much. We just sit. Sometimes she hums a melody I barely remember — something Zayan used to play on his phone when we studied after school. Sometimes she just stares at the fog through the window and smiles like it’s beautiful.
She’s never once asked me to follow her.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhz0Nel8GS6
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She doesn’t have to.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfMIaFmKn9z
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---
The room looks different now.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfr4DvaQAYU
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Like it’s dissolving.
The desk is gone.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYrMlGZ4984
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The floor is soft.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeV4Mx7zI0g
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The air smells like paper and old ink.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHpFN3Q7aXz
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I don’t sleep anymore. I just rest in between worlds.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjKhQNJaSe2
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---
I found Through the Pale Veil again.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3quaFUPiqm
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The book is torn, brittle. Its pages curl like they’re alive.
There’s no ending.
Just a sentence I don’t remember reading before, scribbled in the margin like it wasn’t meant to be seen.
> “He stayed because the real world never called him back.”372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyPkYEXkRAn
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This morning — if it was morning — I stood at the door.
My real door. The wooden one. Still locked.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0g0oVGGK8a
372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFlOKlTbGVH
I placed my hand on the handle.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ669xpGGgEe
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I heard my father’s voice on the other side.
He was crying. Saying my name. Over and over.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw5jBWfLptp
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Begging.
I didn’t open it.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMspqzhYt61
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Not because I didn’t want to.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbNMpuxk0KC
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But because I couldn’t remember how.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEF3OSTdGBs
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---
I turned around.
Arya was waiting.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwLDtGpHVjZ
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The fog was behind her.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTp9azQmnMr
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She reached out.
And I followed.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLEIZETosx4
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---
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✍️ Author’s Note
We all have fictional characters we get attached to. Sometimes, they help us escape.372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyWztplZVFR
372Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFCSOG8H127
But what if… they didn’t want us to leave?
What if they got obsessed with us too?
The line between fiction and reality blurs when we forget to come back.
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