Haunted by the memory of imagined slights and lingering humiliation, Mateo found himself spiralling further into paranoia with each passing day. It had been like this for nearly four years, ever since a handful of immature, gossiping classmates had decided to make him the subject of their whispers and jokes. They had laughed and sneered, spreading stories behind his back, never once considering the damage their words might inflict. To them, it had been nothing more than harmless entertainment — but for Mateo, it had carved scars deep into his mind.
After another gruelling day at school, enduring stares that might not have even been real and snickers that might not have even been about him, Mateo trudged home with heavy steps. The streets felt colder than usual, the air biting against his skin, as if the world itself were conspiring to remind him of how small he felt.
When he arrived, he dropped his schoolbag by the door and joined his mother downstairs. They sat together in the lounge, the television flickering with muted light, casting long shadows across the walls. His mother spoke to him occasionally — small talk about school, dinner plans, the neighbour's new dog — but Mateo's answers were short and hollow. He barely heard what she was saying; his mind was too loud.
Near midnight, after hours of this quiet coexistence, his mother stood up, yawning softly. She kissed the top of his head, wished him goodnight, and padded off towards her room, leaving Mateo alone with the low hum of the house at rest.
Then, without warning, a beaming ray of blue, orange, and red light spilled across the floor, breaking the stillness of the night. Mateo blinked, heart pounding, and looked up. Before him hovered what seemed to be a clump of shimmering, colourful matter, vaguely shaped like a human figure. Its form was both solid and ethereal, as though it were made of smoke and starlight, constantly shifting but never dispersing.
"I will give you what you desire," the figure said, its voice calm but resonant, as though echoing from inside his skull. "But you must take this pill."
Mateo's brow furrowed. His first instinct was disbelief. He reached up and pinched his own cheek, feeling the sting and the slight pull of his skin beneath his fingers.
"Am I dreaming?" he whispered.
"No," replied the figure, its voice carrying an odd warmth that unsettled him more than if it had been cold. "You are not. I assure you, this is as real as it gets. Now, take the pill. Think carefully of what you want, and then swallow."
In its strange, glowing hand appeared a small, black capsule. Mateo hesitated, his mind racing with questions he could not put into words. Eventually, with trembling fingers, he took the pill and placed it on his tongue.
The swallow felt like shards of broken glass scraping down his throat, and a sudden wave of heat spread through his chest. His vision blurred.
The last thing Mateo felt was the room spinning wildly around him, and then — darkness.