The day after the strange stillness in class, things didn't feel right. The air seemed thicker, heavier, like the world itself was holding its breath. Every step I took, every word spoken, felt as though it were reverberating in slow motion. Time seemed to stretch, and every shadow in the hallway felt darker, more imposing than usual.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong — and it was only growing stronger.
The morning had passed in a blur. No one had spoken much about the odd sensation we'd all experienced during class, but it was hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. There was an undeniable tension among the group, a palpable shift in the atmosphere. Everyone was on edge, unsure of what was happening but too afraid to voice it.
After the bell rang for lunch, the usual chatter and laughter that filled the hallways felt off-key. Conversations sounded muffled, as if they were coming from underwater. Even the lighting seemed wrong — the fluorescent lights above flickered in a strange, rhythmic pattern that felt almost deliberate. It made my skin crawl. Like the world was glitching, slowly and subtly.
I found Mia in the cafeteria line, her eyes distant as if she were lost in her thoughts. When she caught sight of me, she gave me a small, worried smile.
"Yuna, did you feel that too?" she asked, her voice laced with an unfamiliar seriousness.
I paused, the weight of her question sinking in. "Yeah. Something's wrong. It's like reality's glitching or something."
Mia narrowed her eyes, her gaze flickering around the room. "Glitching? That's one way to put it. But it feels more like… like there's a crack somewhere. A crack we're not supposed to see." She looked down at her tray, not eating, just staring at the food.
I nodded, my stomach twisting. "I know. And I think it has something to do with Jerry."
---
We sat down at our usual table, the group scattered around. The noise of the cafeteria felt muffled, like a distant hum. It should have been lively — the usual chatter about who was going to win the upcoming game, or what everyone planned for the weekend. But no one seemed to care about that today. Everyone was distracted, lost in their own thoughts, except for Jerry.
He was sitting at the far end of the table, as usual. But today, he was different. His posture was stiff, his eyes glazed over. He wasn't eating, wasn't looking at anyone. He was simply... there, but not. It was like he was lost in a place no one else could see.
I glanced around at the others. Ivy was still staring out of the window, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. She didn't engage much, but when she did, her words had weight. Now, she was oddly silent, her focus broken only by the occasional twitch of her eyes.
Theo, ever the joker, sat with his arms crossed, tapping his fingers against the table. His usual teasing demeanor was nowhere to be found. He seemed… on edge. I caught him glancing at Jack a few times, as if waiting for him to say something, but Jack was unusually quiet too, his eyes fixed on Jerry as if trying to decode what was happening.
Amelia hadn't looked up from her textbook for the past ten minutes, but I knew she was paying attention. She always was. Her calm, collected nature usually put everyone at ease, but today even she couldn't hide the unease that had crept into her eyes.
It was then that I saw it — a flicker. Just a split second. The room around Jerry seemed to bend, like the air itself was warping. The walls shimmered, distorted by an unseen force, and for a moment, I could have sworn I saw a shadow pass across his face, not in the reflection of the glass behind him, but somewhere deeper — something in his mind.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. "Did you see that?" I whispered to Mia.
She didn't even need to think. "I saw it," she said, her voice low. "That wasn't just me, was it?"
"No," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "That was real."
I could feel the panic rising in my chest, but I fought to keep it down. Whatever was happening wasn't normal. Whatever Jerry was, it wasn't just his odd behavior. It was more. The fractures in reality were becoming more obvious, more dangerous.
Suddenly, the stillness in the room seemed even more profound. As if the world itself had stopped spinning, waiting for something to happen. I felt like we were all standing on the edge of something monumental.
Mia's eyes flicked to the others, then back to Jerry. "Do you think it's because of him? Is it the way he's—"
"Maybe," I cut her off, looking at Jerry again. "But it feels like we're all being affected by it. Like it's spreading. I don't think it's just him."
---
That's when Jack spoke up, breaking the silence. "You guys feel that, right? The walls are, like, breathing." He sounded completely serious, no sarcasm in his voice. It was rare for him to speak up like this, and I could tell something was bothering him. He leaned forward in his seat, eyes fixed on Jerry. "He's not the only one who's weird. Everything's shifting."
Theo gave a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Shifting? Dude, I thought I was just tired, but now I'm not so sure." His voice cracked, a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"I don't think it's just us," I muttered, my stomach tightening. "Something's breaking apart."
Amelia looked up, finally putting down her book. Her gaze was steady, but there was an unreadable depth in her eyes. "You're right," she said softly, her voice calm but tinged with a note of concern. "This isn't a coincidence. It's happening around him. But we need to figure out why."
At that moment, Ivy spoke for the first time, her voice almost a whisper. "Maybe we're not supposed to understand it. Maybe this isn't about us. Maybe it's about him."
Everyone looked at her, and for once, Ivy's usual distance seemed to dissolve. She was staring at Jerry, her eyes narrowing as if she were trying to peer into his soul. "But if we're seeing these cracks, maybe we're part of the problem too."
The tension in the air thickened. I could feel it, heavy and suffocating. We all stood in the midst of this unease, trapped in the growing weight of whatever was happening. It wasn't just Jerry anymore. It was all of us.
---
The bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts, signaling the end of lunch. The group slowly gathered their things, but the weight of what we'd just witnessed lingered. No one spoke as we filed out of the cafeteria, but I could feel the distance between us growing. Each of us was trapped in our own thoughts, trying to process the bizarre events of the past few days.
As I walked to my next class, I glanced over at Jerry again. He was still sitting in the cafeteria, staring into space, completely detached from the world around him. His face was expressionless, as always, but now there was something else — a flicker of something, a hint of something that wasn't just him anymore.
I could feel the pull again, that same magnetic force drawing me to him. He was at the center of it all. The fractures, the shifts in reality — it was all connected to him.
I couldn't help but wonder — was he even aware of it?