Daniel woke up disoriented, his head heavy and eyes unfocused. The room was warm and unusually silent, save for the steady ticking of the clock on his bedside table. He stretched, feeling the familiar tension in his muscles, and sat up, rubbing his face.
A soft, white light shimmered around him, bathing the room in an ethereal glow. It wasn't the warm, golden hue of the morning sun but something cooler, almost unreal. Confused, he squinted at the window, expecting to see sunlight pouring in—but the curtains were drawn shut.
"Huh, that's weird," he muttered, glancing around.
Then he saw her.
Turning toward the source of the light, he froze. Beside him, a vague, shifting figure hovered on the edge of perception, like a mirage wavering in the heat. Her shape seemed unsteady, blurring slightly as if struggling to take form. Daniel blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes, convinced he was imagining things, but when he looked again, the figure was still there, becoming clearer.
Slowly, the hazy outlines coalesced into the silhouette of a girl. Her features sharpened, coming into focus as if an artist were sketching her into existence right before his eyes. Her hair, once indistinct, cascaded down in soft waves, glistening faintly in the dim light.
Her face, delicate and almost too perfect, emerged clearly now, eyes closed in a peaceful expression. The gentle curve of her cheeks and the rise and fall of her breath became visible, her presence both mesmerizing and unsettling. It was as if she had materialized from thin air, fully formed in an instant. Daniel's pulse quickened, panic bubbling up as he stared, his mind caught between disbelief and awe.
A bead of sweat trickled down his back. The girl stirred, her eyes fluttering open. As she looked directly at him, Daniel's breath caught in his throat, his mind screaming at him to move, to run, but his body remained frozen, entranced by those glowing eyes.
Her eyes shone a brilliant white, glowing with the same otherworldly light that filled the room. For a moment, they seemed to pierce through him, radiant and unsettling. But as he stared in awe, the light in her eyes began to fade, gradually shifting to a soft brown. The room dimmed, the ethereal glow dissipating, until she was left with ordinary brown eyes, wide with confusion and fear.
Coming back to his senses, Daniel scrambled back, nearly tumbling off the bed. "Who are you?" he blurted, his heart racing.
The girl blinked, seemingly just as shocked as he was. "What...?" Her voice was soft, mirroring his own. She sat up slowly, looking around the room as if searching for answers.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you—" Daniel stammered, the questions spilling out before he could stop himself. His mind was racing, struggling to piece everything together.
Then she looked directly at him, her once-glowing eyes now a warm, human brown.
"Wait... are you Daniel?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah... I am," he answered, his voice wavering, but the flood of questions kept coming. "But—who are you? How do you know my name? What just happened?"
Her eyes widened, fingers trembling as they brushed her cheek. "I think..." she began, but was interrupted by their mother's voice from downstairs. "Daniel! The bus is leaving in five minutes!"
The urgency in his mom's voice jolted him, cutting through the haze of confusion. His stomach lurched. He glanced back at the girl, his breath still shallow from the shock.
The girl flinched at the sound of his mom's voice, gripping the blanket tightly in her hands, pulling it close to her body as though it was her last line of defense. Her knuckles whitened with the tension, and her wide eyes peeked out from behind the fabric, the fear in them impossible to ignore.
She looked so small in that moment, so vulnerable, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. It was like watching someone barely holding themselves together, fragile and lost. She shrank into the blanket, hiding behind it like a scared child, unsure of what was happening or where she was.
Daniel hesitated. He should have been panicking. Everything about this situation screamed danger—an unknown girl materializing in his room, glowing like something from another world—but when he looked into her eyes, all he saw was fear. Not the kind of fear that came from being caught, but the kind that came from not knowing where you were or why you existed.
For a moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, even though he didn't understand why. An unexpected warmth crept into his thoughts, like a gentle fog clouding his judgment, blurring the edges of his reason. His mind seemed to grow softer, more pliable, making it harder to focus on the strangeness of the situation. A part of him knew he should be thinking more clearly, questioning everything, but the warmth smoothed over those thoughts, pushing them aside.
"Quick, hide under the bed!" he whispered, his voice low but firm.
The girl nodded, her movements clumsy with fear, and scrambled under the bed, pulling the blanket with her as she disappeared into the shadows. Daniel glanced down at the spot where she hid, his heart pounding. His mind reeled from the impossibility of the situation, but there was no time to process it. His mother's voice echoed in his mind—the bus, the rush, the urgency.
He turned and hurried downstairs, the pounding of his feet matching the racing beat of his heart. The surreal nature of the morning continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, the strange warmth still fogging his thoughts, but his body moved on autopilot, carrying him toward the door. His fingers fumbled at the knob, and just before stepping out, he turned back, his breath catching for a second.
"Please don't do anything stupid, okay?" he whispered urgently. "Wait for me to come back."
She nodded from under the bed, her wide eyes glowing softly in the darkness, fear and understanding shining in them. With that, Daniel turned and left the room, the question that had been pulsing in his mind still refusing to let go: Who was she, and why did she seem so familiar?