Chapter Two: A Normal Day
Luke woke up to the buzzing of his phone alarm. The screen flashed 7:30 a.m., and for a few seconds he considered turning over and ignoring it. His body was still heavy from the restless night, and his mind clung to the strange dream — if it was a dream at all. But eventually, he dragged himself out of bed.
The apartment was quiet as usual. A single room with a bed, desk, and a tiny kitchen in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was affordable, and affordable was all he could manage on his student budget.
He shuffled to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His hair was a mess of black strands sticking out in every direction, his eyes dull with exhaustion. He sighed and grabbed his toothbrush.
"Another day," he muttered, brushing his teeth.
Breakfast was simple — instant noodles. He didn't really care about cooking, and it was cheap. He sat at his desk while eating, flipping through his notes half-heartedly. His university classes weren't exactly his passion. Business administration sounded practical when he chose it, but lectures often felt like endless noise.
After finishing the noodles, he threw on a hoodie and jeans, slipped his backpack over his shoulder, and left the apartment.
The hallway outside smelled faintly of mildew, and the walls were painted in a dull beige that hadn't been touched in years. The old landlord only fixed things when they completely broke. Luke didn't mind much; he was used to it.
On the walk to campus, the morning air felt crisp. The streets were already busy with cars and motorcycles weaving through traffic. Street vendors were setting up stalls, frying food that filled the air with the scent of oil and spices.
Luke stopped by one stall he visited often. The woman behind it, Auntie Mei as most people called her, smiled at him.
"Late night again, Luke?" she asked, handing him a fried bun wrapped in paper.
"Something like that," he said, handing her a few coins.
"Study hard, but don't overdo it," she said, as she always did.
Luke nodded, biting into the warm bun as he walked. Small routines like this were comforting. They made life predictable.
By the time he reached campus, the courtyard was filled with students rushing to classes, chatting in groups, or sitting on benches scrolling through their phones. Luke blended in easily — just another face in the crowd.
His first lecture was economics. The professor's voice droned on about market trends and data analysis while Luke tried to keep his eyes open. He scribbled a few notes, then doodled on the side of the page when he lost track.
Beside him, his friend David nudged him. "Hey, you look dead. Did you even sleep?"
"Barely," Luke whispered back.
"Man, you should stop gaming all night," David said, shaking his head.
Luke almost laughed. It was easier to let David think it was gaming than explain what really happened at 3 a.m.
The rest of the morning passed quietly. Two more lectures, both just as boring. When lunch break arrived, Luke and David went to the cafeteria. The food wasn't great, but it was cheap, and cheap mattered more.
They sat with a few other classmates, talking about exams and assignments. David, as usual, dominated the conversation with jokes that made everyone laugh. Luke mostly listened, eating his rice slowly, nodding at the right moments. He wasn't antisocial, just not as energetic as the others.
After lunch came a seminar where attendance was more important than participation. Luke sat in the back, pretending to take notes while scrolling through his phone. He checked messages, social media, and a few forums. Nothing interesting.
By 4 p.m., his classes were done. He waved goodbye to David and started the walk back to his apartment. The streets were livelier now, filled with people shopping, students hanging out, and vendors shouting about their goods.
Luke stopped at a convenience store to grab instant noodles and a bottle of water. The cashier scanned them without much expression, and Luke left without saying much either.
When he finally returned home, the apartment was exactly the way he left it: quiet, dim, and a little lonely. He set his bag down, sat at his desk, and stared at his textbooks.
For a while, he tried to study. Read a few pages. Underlined some text. But his mind kept wandering. His thoughts circled back to the night before, to the broken lightbulb, the strange shadow, and the wasteland filled with spirits.
He shook his head. "It was just a dream," he told himself. Over and over.
To distract himself, he opened his laptop and played some music. The sound filled the silence, soft enough not to bother his neighbors. He scrolled through online videos, watched some clips, and laughed a little. It was better than sitting in silence with his thoughts.
Dinner was another instant meal, this time a microwaved package of fried rice. He ate while leaning back on his bed, watching random videos on his phone.
Hours passed like that — small, ordinary actions, nothing special.
By 11 p.m., he was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The lights were off, and the room was quiet again.
He didn't want to admit it, but part of him was afraid to close his eyes. Afraid that if he slept, he'd wake up in that grey wasteland again, surrounded by whispering spirits.
Still, exhaustion eventually won. His eyelids grew heavy, and slowly, Luke drifted into sleep.
The room stayed silent, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside. On the wall near his desk, the strange mark that had been burned into the paint last night remained, faintly visible in the dark.
Luke hadn't noticed it this time.
And it hadn't faded.