SLAM!
Aric shot up from his desk, heart racing. His eyes darted around the classroom.
"How long are you planning to sleep, Aric?" Mr. Thomas yelled, his hand pressing against Aric's desk.
"Sorry, sir… I didn't sleep well last night," Aric muttered, massaging his temple again.
The pain was back — stabbing, burning, like his skull was trying to split open from the inside. For days now, he couldn't sleep, couldn't think, couldn't even enjoy food. He went to the doctor three separate times… and each time, they said he was fine.
They were wrong.
He knew something was wrong — he could feel it.
Every sound seemed sharper, almost painful.
The ticking of the clock, the distant hum of cars outside, even the rustle of his own clothes — all of it was suddenly too loud. His head throbbed with every passing second.
And the smells…
He could smell the dust in the air. The old wood. Even the faint scent of rain drifting from streets far away. His senses were exploding with information he never noticed before.
Do I have a brain tumor? he thought, panic twisting in his gut.
Am I dying?
He tried to sink deeper into his seat, gripping his head.
"Bro, are you good?" whispered Emily — the tomboy who'd been stuck sitting next to him for the last two years. They got along fine. Both outsiders, both terrible at making friends… so over time, they just ended up talking to each other.
"My head is killing me," he whispered back. "I tried everything — medication, home remedies, sleep, water. Nothing works."
"Mmh. Must suck to be you," Emily smirked. "Probably what you get for what you did to Nancy."
"Oh, come on, not this again," Aric groaned. "I didn't do anything to her. I'm just not into that relationship stuff. Girlfriends, romance — it's all a waste of time."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "Sure. But you could've rejected her nicely. Ever heard of letting people down slow? But no — what did you say to her again?"
"I can answer that," whispered Jeff behind them, already grinning. He cleared his throat and used his best 'cold Aric' voice:
"I have no interest in you at all. Please leave me alone. This is getting annoying."
Emily instantly joined in, pretending to cry loudly:
"Ahhh! Sob sob! I hate you!"
Aric scowled. They both burst into laughter — until Mr. Thomas shot them a glare that promised punishment.
RING!
Finally. The bell saved him.
Aric shoved his things into his bag in record time.
"Why the rush?" Emily asked. "It's not like you have anyone waiting for you at home."
Jeff glared at her.
"What? It's true."
"Yeah, but you still shouldn't say it."
"It's fine," Aric muttered, fumbling with his jacket zipper. "I'm just tired. I wanna go home. See you tomorrow."
"See ya!" they replied together.
---
Aric pushed through the school doors and into the gloomy late-afternoon air. The sky was a blanket of heavy grey clouds, threatening rain. The streets were cracked and uneven, lined with old buildings that had long lost their color. People walked past like ghosts — shoulders hunched, faces drained, no one talking, no one smiling.
Cars splashed through puddles, and the wind carried bits of trash across the pavement. Aric kept his head down, staring at his footsteps. Each one made his headache throb harder, a sharp pulse behind his eyes that seemed to match the rhythm of his heartbeat.
The closer he got to home, the quieter everything became. No dogs barking. No neighbors chatting. Just… silence. The ache in his head seemed to intensify in the emptiness, pressing against his temples like invisible hands.
His apartment building stood at the end of a narrow street — tall, worn-down, and lonely. The paint was peeling, and the metal railings were rusted. He had lived there his whole life… and it had never felt like home.
Not since his mother died in the accident four years ago. She was his world. A short, stocky woman with bright red hair that looked like it was on fire in the sunlight. He remembered her as someone always smiling, always positive — the complete opposite of him.
Aric had learned to expect the worst in people. It was how he survived. If you expected everyone to betray you, it didn't hurt as much when they actually did.
As for his father… he died shortly after Aric was born. A stranger he never got the chance to know.
Enough of this sentimental crap, Aric muttered, shaking his head.
He pushed the key into the lock and stepped inside.
---
Dark. Cold.
The curtains in the living room hadn't been opened in years. Dust coated everything like a thick blanket. The furniture still sat exactly how his mother left it — untouched, waiting for someone who would never return. The ache in his head throbbed in sync with the heavy silence of the apartment.
Aric's chest tightened. He forced himself to keep walking, each floorboard creaking under his weight.
Then—a noise.
Something shifted in the kitchen.
Footsteps. Slow… deliberate… creaking closer.
Aric froze. His blood ran cold as he snapped his head toward the kitchen.
Nothing.
His heartbeat slowed and he let out a shaky breath.
"Oh great," he muttered, pressing his fingers against his temples as the pain stabbed through his skull again. "Now I'm hearing things."
He reached his bedroom door and turned the knob. The small room looked the same as always — a single bed pushed into the corner, a wardrobe that hadn't been opened in days, a dusty desk stacked with old school papers. Heavy dark curtains covered the window, blocking out every ray of light. He never opened them. He didn't need a reason… he just preferred it that way.
Aric collapsed onto his bed with a low groan. His breathing steadied, eyelids growing heavier by the second. Within moments, he slipped into sleep.
Silence.
Then, quietly…
Footsteps.
Right outside his room.
They approached — slow… measured… like someone was making sure not to wake him.
The sound stopped directly in front of his door.
For a second, everything was still.
Then the doorknob began to turn.