"You're lonely. You're alone."
The note was as brief as ever, the handwriting identical to the ones before.
But this time, it wasn't a question—it was a statement.
It felt like the distance between them had somehow shrunk.
The thought sent a chill racing up Maria's spine, her hair standing on end.
Clutching her pillow in terror, Maria's body trembled as her eyes darted around the room.
It was like an invisible person was watching her.
Barry: I'll keep my eyes on you.
Her eyelashes quivered, and Maria couldn't stop shaking. She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat, trapped.
It was happening again—why was it happening again?
Maria was on the verge of breaking down, tears streaming down her face.
After a while, a knock came at the door.
(Bookmark 101kan.com for the fastest chapter updates!)
"Sweetie, it's time to get up for breakfast."
Her mom, Amy, noticed she hadn't come downstairs and came to check on her. Missing the school bus would be a hassle.
"Can I come in?"
Amy got no response and asked cautiously.
"Sweetie… Maria?"
Click, click!
She twisted the doorknob, but the room was locked from the inside.
Bang, bang, bang!
The loud knocking finally snapped Maria's attention to the door.
"Mom!"
Maria scrambled to the door, half-tripping in her rush.
She flung it open.
Before Amy could process what was happening, Maria threw herself into her arms, emotions spilling over.
Gently patting her daughter's back, Amy soothed her softly.
Downstairs in the living room, Amy asked, "You look awful—what happened?"
Once Maria's emotions settled a bit, Amy pressed with concern.
"I… I've been dealing with something weird." Maria spilled everything about the mysterious notes she'd been getting.
Amy covered her mouth in shock, barely believing it. But soon, her eyes filled with pain and sadness.
Her sweet daughter… could she have depression?
Maria was so young.
"So, you're saying there's this person—who might or might not exist," Amy said.
"And every night, they wait until you're asleep to slip notes under your door?"
Maria's dad, Dan, looked baffled. "What is this nonsense?"
"Are you messing with me, Maria? You really need to go out and make some friends."
"And, honestly, you look like you didn't sleep at all last night. You're a mess."
Dan frowned, staring at his daughter.
"Daddy, I… I'm telling the truth. Please believe me."
Maria's words were cut off as her dad sighed and shook his head.
"Fine. I'll call the school and get you excused for today. Stay home, and I'll arrange for a doctor to come by."
With that, Maria's dad grabbed his suit jacket and headed out.
"I… I'm not sick," Maria mumbled weakly, watching his retreating figure.
"Sweetie, I understand," said Amy, who had her own struggles with depression, giving Maria an "I get you" look.
That afternoon, the doctor arrived.
"I'm Rose Carter, a friend of your dad's. You can call me Rose. You must be Maria," she introduced herself warmly.
"Yeah," Maria replied, sounding glum and not exactly thrilled.
"Want to tell me what's been going on? Anything that's making you unhappy or upset—you can share it with me."
Rose was a psychiatrist, called in by Dan to check if Maria was having mental health issues.
Maria didn't know Rose, but with some encouragement, she recounted her eerie experiences.
Rose listened calmly, her face professional and composed.
"That sounds terrifying. If I may ask, Maria, do you use marijuana?"
Maria shook her head vigorously. She smoked cigarettes sometimes but never touched that stuff.
Rose then asked about Maria's sleep patterns, eating habits, and family medical history.
After carefully examining the white notes Maria had kept, Rose wrapped up the session.
"Dr. Carter, is Maria okay?" Amy asked anxiously.
Rose had a good sense of who was genuinely struggling and who might be faking it.
"She's fine. Mentally, she's likely okay," Rose said.
"Long-term insomnia can lead to nervous exhaustion, and with recent stressful events, she's probably just overly anxious."
"It's possible she's experiencing hallucinations. Sleepwalking isn't out of the question either."
"I'll prescribe some sedatives for Maria to take for a few days. We'll see how she does."
Amy thanked Rose profusely as she saw her out. Turning back, she realized Maria had slipped away from the living room, retreating to her room.
"Sweetie! Sweetie, make sure you take your meds!" Amy called, desperate to keep her daughter from spiraling into mental illness.
"Leave me alone! I'm not sick!" Maria shouted through the door, her voice laced with frustration.
…
That night, Maria swallowed a pill, washing it down with a glass of water.
Within ten minutes, her day-long gloom lifted, and she slipped into a calm, almost zen-like state.
"Nothing to be scared of anymore," she murmured.
She'd spent the whole day scrolling on her phone. At school, nobody cared about her absence.
Well, maybe Mark noticed—only because they were short one target to mock.
But all that? Just a bit of life's rough edges.
Maria was starting to let it go.
The meds dulled her fear, and bold ideas started creeping into her mind.
If this mysterious person was leaving her notes without actually hurting her, why was she so afraid?
At first, her panic was instinctive, like deep down she knew this figure was dangerous, capable of harm.
She had to be scared.
But the medicated Maria? She was different. The weak Maria was gone.
In her place was Brave Maria.
She made a bold decision—maybe the boldest of her life.
She was going to respond to the mystery person.
If they could slip notes to her without a trace, they were probably watching her every move.
They're so obsessed with me… could they actually like me?
A weird thought hit Maria, and the more she dwelled on it, the more her mind spun wild, romantic scenarios.
The more you lack something, the more you crave it.
Lonely and isolated, Maria had always fantasized about being the center of attention, the star of the show, with charm that could captivate a crowd.
A smile, a glance—enough to spark cheers.
In party-obsessed America, outgoing, athletic girls were the ones who got all the love. Quiet, nerdy types like Maria? They were the ones people looked down on.
Self-conscious and sensitive, Maria was, unfortunately, the latter.
"Alright, let's do this."
She grabbed a pen, tore off a piece of paper, and scribbled a single line, sticking it to the other side of her earphones.
Short and simple:
Who are you?
Support me by leaving a comment, voting, and visiting myPatr-eon at belamy20
Check out another story in my profile original works