The world didn't rush to fix itself.
I stayed where I was after they left.
Standing.
Barely.
Breathing felt optional, like something my body was doing out of habit rather than need. The room was quiet again, but it wasn't the same quiet as before.
This one lingered.
Watching.
Waiting.
My fingers loosened from the desk.
One by one.
I wasn't sure when I started holding on.
Or why.
"…you're right."
The voice again.
Closer this time.
I froze.
Not because I understood it—
—but because I didn't feel like I was supposed to respond.
Like answering it would confirm something I wasn't ready to admit.
I swallowed.
My throat felt dry.
"…right about what?"
Silence.
Then—
A subtle shift.
Not in the room.
Inside me.
Like something had tilted, just slightly.
"You shouldn't be here."
The words didn't come from the voice.
Not fully.
They echoed from somewhere deeper.
Something layered.
Confused.
Split.
My breathing slowed.
My chest felt… tight.
Not painful.
Just wrong.
I took a step.
My foot didn't land properly.
The floor seemed to tilt under me for a fraction of a second—like gravity had missed its alignment.
I blinked.
The room corrected itself.
Or maybe I did.
"…okay," I muttered, forcing the words out. "I'm just—"
My voice cut off.
Because the room changed.
Not dramatically.
Not visibly.
Just… subtly.
The edges of my vision blurred.
The sounds in the distance softened.
Like the world was stepping back from me.
Or I was stepping out of it.
My pulse began to thud louder in my ears.
Slow.
Heavy.
Measured.
Too loud.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
My heart answered with a strange, uneven rhythm.
Something was off.
I didn't know what.
But my body knew.
And it didn't like it.
I tried to move again.
My leg trembled.
Not from pain.
From instability.
Like my balance wasn't something I controlled anymore.
The room tilted.
Just a degree.
Enough.
My stomach dropped.
"…no."
I caught myself on the desk.
Too hard.
The wood creaked under the pressure.
My breathing quickened.
Short.
Shallow.
Wrong.
Something inside me whispered again—
Not a voice.
A pressure.
A thought that didn't belong to me.
"You're slipping."
My fingers tightened.
"What—"
My vision flickered.
Just once.
But enough.
Enough to make my breath catch.
The light in the room seemed… thinner.
Less certain.
The shadows stretched slightly longer than they should.
My skin prickled.
Cold.
A distant ringing started in my ears.
Faint at first.
Then growing.
Expanding.
"I said—"
My voice cracked.
Louder this time.
"I said what's going on—"
My knees gave out.
Not completely.
But enough.
My body folded slightly forward, forcing me to grip the desk tighter just to stay upright.
Something warm trickled down my upper lip.
I wiped it without thinking.
Looked at my fingers.
Red.
Thick.
Real.
"…no."
My breath hitched.
The ringing grew louder.
The room felt farther away.
Like I was being pulled out of it.
Or like it was losing me.
The desk under my hands felt distant now.
Less solid.
Less certain.
My legs wouldn't respond properly anymore.
I tried to straighten.
Failed.
Again.
"…stop."
My voice came out weaker.
Almost… distant.
Like I was listening to myself from somewhere else.
The room tilted again.
This time, it didn't fully correct.
The world shifted—and didn't fully settle back into place.
My grip tightened.
Too tight.
My fingers hurt.
Good.
Pain meant I was still here.
Right?
The ringing became a roar.
Everything started to blur together.
Light.
Sound.
Balance.
My breathing stuttered.
The room spun.
Slow.
Then faster.
My hand slipped.
Just slightly.
Enough.
My body followed.
I fell.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
Just…
Down.
The floor met me halfway.
Or maybe I met it.
Hard.
My shoulder struck first.
Then my head.
The impact rang through me like a bell being struck too close to my skull.
For a moment—
Everything stopped.
No sound.
No movement.
Just a suspended silence.
Like the world had paused to check if I was still part of it.
I tried to inhale.
The breath didn't come properly.
Stuck.
Halfway.
Something in my chest tightened.
My vision flickered.
Black.
Then—
Light.
Too bright.
Too sharp.
The world came back in pieces.
Fragments.
Unstable.
And then—
Everything felt wrong.
My body didn't respond the way it should.
My thoughts came slower.
Disjointed.
Unfamiliar.
I lay there.
Not moving.
Not because I chose to.
But because my body didn't seem to understand how anymore.
And somewhere in that broken stillness—
a thought surfaced.
Clear.
Uninvited.
Almost… amused.
They say the last thing you see before you die is your life flashing before your eyes.
That's a lie.