The echo of laughter still burned in my ears.
I didn't run this time-I walked. Slowly. Heavily. Like each step sank me deeper into something I didn't understand.
That voice still echoed in my mind: "Open your eyes."
And Dreck-he knows something. Did he hear it too?
Is this some sci-fi movie where aliens invade and only the chosen ones who hear the call survive? Or... are we just losing our minds?
By we I mean me.
But the sea in my head, the voice-it wasn't a joke. That was real.
And I needed to know why.
I dialed Dreck's old number, praying he hadn't changed it.
No answer.
Disconnected.
I guess I'll have to wait until the end of the school day. I have to talk to him.
*********************************
Me, Taylor, and Emmi walked onto the handball court to greet the new P.E. teacher with the rest of the team. We sat on the ground in our gym uniforms, waiting, talking about the new cheerleader list and auditions.
'Typical teen talk'
I'd always been rejected from cheer tryouts. Too short for their standards.
But Eva, the squad leader, had been impressed when I exposed Mr. Müller that year. So she gave me a spot beside her-as her assistant.
Was it kindness? Admiration? Or is she just waiting for the perfect moment to ask me to repay the favor?
Honestly, I think it's the last one.
Emmi's in the music club-she loves to sing, and her voice? Incredible. I adore her originals. She's creative in a way that makes you pause and feel.
And Taylor? He's finally trying out for the football team. Hoping the new P.E. teacher will give him a shot.
"Adam took Dad," I mumbled to Emmi, "and now he's taking Dreck. Cool."
"You and Dreck haven't spoken since that party, Tat," Emmi said, her teasing eyes rolling.
"Yeah... but if something changed-"
What was I even saying? He pushed me into a pool, knowing I couldn't swim.
"Never mind. Forget it. I don't care," I said just as we heard footsteps.
We didn't pay attention. Probably another out-of-shape teacher like always-until-
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I blurted, way too loud.
It was him.
The hot guy I slammed into on the football field.
And now he was staring straight at me. As everyone else.
"Tat, what are you doing?" Emmi whispered. "Sit down!" She yanked me back into place.
Wait-when did I stand?
"Is something wrong, Miss...?"
"Tat," I said awkwardly. "And no. All good."
He scanned the list in his hand.
"Tat? I don't see your name."
"It's actually Tafukt. Tat's my nickname." I watched his face, waiting for the smirk or laugh. But instead... admiration?
"Tafukt," he repeated, pronouncing it perfectly.
Right-Emmi mentioned he's from Morocco.
"So you know it means-"
"The sun. Yeah. I know."
"Are you Moroccan Amazigh then?"
"My parents are," I replied quietly.
"And you're not?"
I hesitated just long enough for him to say, "I'm Moroccan-"
"Don't care," I cut in sharply.
"Rude. Ten pushups," he ordered, arms crossed.
"I can't even finish four," I fired back, rising to my feet.
"Cool. Then today you'll do ten."
He turned and called out, "Everyone else, follow me!" and marched out toward the football field.
"How do you know I'll actually do ten?" I called after him.
"Because you're Moroccan," he replied, grinning. "And our ego is harsher on ourselves than on anyone else."
I couldn't help but smile back.
Why the hell was I smiling? I had pushups to suffer through.
But for once, I didn't feel judged. I felt... recognized. Trusted. Like he believed I could do it.
So I started warming up.
And that's when I heard the noise coming from the changing room.
I crept toward it, cautious. I opened the door. No one.
I stepped inside, glancing around. Maybe it was a stray cat.
Then I felt it again-the wind, the island, the sea... calling me.
My head spun. The dizziness pulled me under.
And someone caught me.
I looked up.
"Dreck?"
No response.
"Your eyes-what happened to yo-"
Everything turned black.
Darkness.
All around me.
I reached out. My hand touched a wall-smooth, cold, and polished enough to reflect my face.
Not a mirror. But not glass either.
When I pressed it, it bounced back.
In the reflection, a shadow appeared. Purple.
Behind me.
I turned.
Nothing.
I looked back. The shadow stepped closer.
Three steps away.
My heart thundered in my chest, so loud I could hear it.
Danger pulsed from the figure-but there was something else.
Something... deeper.
I didn't want to run.
I stared into the reflection, trying to make sense of the shadow.
"Tat," it whispered.
"Who are you?" I asked. "What do you want?"
"Look at me, Tat."
"I am."
"No, Tat. Really look at me.
Open your eyes-and you'll see me."
"My eyes are open."
"Open your eyes, Taty."
"Dreck?"
"Turn around," the voice said, now clearly male. "Turn."
Then a scream:
"Taty, listen to my voice! Follow my voice! Do not look at him! Do not turn around!"
That was Dreck's voice.
I locked eyes with the reflection.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
It just stared back.
My pulse crashed like waves. My instincts screamed: run.
But I knew-if I looked away, I'd lose.
"Follow my voice, Taty. Please."
The voice came from the far end of the wall. A dark spot.
I inched sideways, never breaking eye contact with the shadow.
Step by step.
Faster.
Faster.
Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving, listening for Dreck.
"Taty, come back to me."
"I'm coming, Dreck! I'm coming!"
At the edge-finally-a door. But it was far, on the opposite side of this strange, endless room.
I had to cross it.
Had to keep watching him.
"You can do it, Taty. Please... wake up."
"I'm coming!" I screamed.
"I'll be waiting," said the shadow.
When I reached the door and grabbed the handle-the wall behind me vanished.
But the shadow remained.
And it turned.
Then it attacked me.