The next morning, the school felt different. Heavier. The air was thick, like it didn't want me to breathe it in. The walls looked damp, almost as if they had been crying through the night, and every sound in the hallway came back to me in whispers I couldn't place.
I walked quickly to my locker, trying not to listen to the strange scratching behind me. When I opened the metal door, a piece of paper slipped out and floated to the floor. My stomach twisted.
I bent to pick it up. The paper was torn, the words scratched in ugly jagged letters:
"YOU DON'T BELONG HERE."
My fingers shook as I shoved it deep inside my bag. I couldn't fall apart now—not in the middle of the hallway. Not with all these eyes around me.
Then I heard a voice.
"Hey, Amara.
I turned. It was Annabelle. I kept wondering how She was… beautiful. Too beautiful. Her smile was wide, flawless, but her eyes—her eyes didn't match. They were too sharp, too knowing.
"Yess
She laughed softly. "you look scared anyways since You're new here, so… I figured you could use a friend."
A friend. The word warmed me for a second. Maybe this was my chance to feel less alone.
But something in me stayed tense. Annabell's smile was perfect, but it didn't touch her eyes.
We walked to class together, her voice calm and sweet, talking about teachers and students like everything was normal. And for a while, I almost forgot about the note burning a hole in my bag—until we reached the classroom door.
That's when I saw it.
A smear of something dark on the wood. Thick. Dried. It looked like blood.
I froze, my throat tightening. Annabell followed my gaze and let out a light chuckle, as if nothing about it was strange.
"You'll get used to things like that here," she said smoothly. "Don't let it bother you."
"Doesn't it scare you?" I whispered.
Her smile never wavered. She leaned closer, her voice almost brushing against my ear.
"Fear is a choice," she murmured. "And some of us… don't have the luxury of choosing it anymore."
Her words sank into my bones, cold and heavy. Before I could ask what she meant, the teacher came in, and the day dragged on like a blur.
By the final bell, I was exhausted. My nerves buzzed, my skin prickled like I was covered in invisible needles. I stepped outside, desperate for fresh air.
But Annabell was already there, waiting by the gate, her too-bright smile fixed on me.
"Walk home with me?" she asked.
I hesitated. "Uh… sure."
As we walked, I felt her watching me. Not just looking—watching. Studying. Finally, she spoke, her voice lower now, as if she were telling me a secret.
"There's a place I want to show you. Not far from here. Come tonight. Midnight."
I stumbled over my own step. "Why?"
Her smile widened, too wide, almost wrong. "Because that's when you'll see what this school is really hiding. And maybe… who you really are."
The streetlight above us flickered. Once. Twice. Then it went completely out.
For a heartbeat, I was swallowed in darkness.
When the light returned, Annabell was already walking away. Her voice drifted back to me through the cold air.
"Don't be late."
I stood there, frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't know what scared me more—the thought of going, or the thought of finding out what would happen if I didn't.