I opened my eyes and stretched. I fell asleep while writing again.
"My neck hurts," I complained, stretching. I looked down at my open notebook and noticed writing on it. In scratches: A E U.
I looked at the book, then I flipped the pages to the previous message where W K P was written.
"Is this a code?" I asked myself. "A E U… A E U… A… A… E… U…" No matter how many times I spelled it out, I just couldn't figure out what it was. "Hold on," I shouted, flipping the pages to the last note. "W… K… P… A… E… U… Wake up?" I asked, looking at it.
No matter how I looked at it, I was the one who wrote it. The question was, why did I write it? And how did I write it? Is it a message from twenty-year-old me? Could my subconscious be trying to communicate with me? It's as if there are parts of me that know the truth, hidden away behind a curtain I can't pull back, fragments of my past self reaching out from the shadows.
This new message makes everything different. Does that mean the person with answers is me? How do I get answers, then? I'm starting to think that the key to unlocking my memories might not be in the external world, but rather, buried deep within myself. The thought that the answers could be right under my nose is both exhilarating and terrifying. Could the solution to this riddle lie within the person I've become?
"Does my body move on its own when I'm asleep? Does that mean I get some kind of awareness while I'm asleep?" I questioned the one person who didn't have the answers… me. The idea was unsettling—what if my conscious mind was locked away while my unconscious self took the reins? It's a bizarre notion, the thought of my body and mind operating separately, a dual existence battling for control. As I pondered these questions, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anticipation and dread for what I might discover next.
…
I walked to the garden where I always met Callum, and he was seated there as always.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," he said, and I raised an eyebrow.
"Morning, Callum," I said, taking my seat.
"Are you sure about what you said?" he asked. Yeah, now I am not so sure anymore.
"I don't think I am," I said, placing my head on the table.
"What do you mean?" Callum asked. If I tell him I write to myself, he won't believe me.
"I'm scared, okay? I just have a strong feeling that I'm being watched." By myself. "And I don't want to get you in trouble, so let's move it up a bit until I'm sure we're clear," I said, and he nodded thoughtfully.
"That makes sense, but just know that I've thought about it, and I'm here to help whenever you need me," he said.
"Thanks, you're a good friend, Callum," I smiled.
"I… I can't stay long today. See you next week then," he said, standing up.
"Bye," I waved.
I went back to my room, grabbed my notebook, and lay on the bed. I kept my hand on it and closed my eyes, but nothing happened. I tried and kept trying, but nothing happened.
"Do I have to fall asleep?" I asked myself. I wasn't sleepy; it felt like the moment I got the realization, the ability to sleep left me.
I groaned and threw myself on the bed. I just wanted to sleep so that I could get a new message. Maybe I'd be able to find out who took my memories from myself… it's so weird to say.
…
I opened my eyes and stretched, looking around the dark room. I really have it easy. I can sleep the whole day without being disturbed.
"First things first," I said, grabbing my notebook. I went to my table and brightened the lamp.
TRUST K K…
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. I scanned it again and flipped through the pages, but that was it. "If you're going to send a message, be clear about it," I complained, throwing the notebook. I huffed and stood up to go pick it up.
I couldn't be angry at the notebook; I just had to keep trying because I needed clarity. I've moved blindly for too long.
…
"I heard you missed lunch and dinner yesterday," Kael said.
I thought we were done having dinner together, but it turned out I was more than wrong. His presence felt like a constant reminder of the mystery I was hopelessly entangled in, each moment spent in his company another thread tightening around me. The room felt smaller with him in it, his gaze heavy on me, as if he could see the thoughts I was so desperately trying to untangle.
I didn't want to see him; every word exchanged felt like part of another game I was forced to play, a game where the rules were hidden, and the stakes were my very sanity. His eyes, always watching, seemed to peel back the layers of my carefully constructed defenses, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. I could feel the tension coiling in my chest, a silent scream trapped in my throat, begging to be released.
But more than anything, I just wanted to be alone. Alone, where the silence was my only companion, and I could sift through the fragmented pieces of my past without his piercing gaze distracting me. The noise of the world faded when I was alone, leaving only the echoes of memories I could barely grasp, memories that held the key to the puzzle that kept me captive.
Each moment spent in solitude was precious, a rare gift in a world that refused to let me rest. It was in those quiet moments that I could dive deeper into the shadows of my mind, where fragmented memories and cryptic messages lay hidden, waiting for me to piece them together. The answers were there, buried beneath the surface, if only I could find them before time ran out.
With every moment I was forced to spend in his presence, I could feel the precious seconds slipping away, the puzzle remaining incomplete. I needed those answers—they were my only hope of escape. And yet, here I was, trapped in yet another conversation, playing yet another game, while the clock ticked down, and my chance at freedom slowly slipped through my fingers.
"Yes, I did," I said, uninterested in the conversation.
"I… it's fine," he said, getting up. "Just watch out for your health," he said and left.
"And my life," I said loudly, but made sure only I could hear it.
I got up and went back to my room, I couldn't be bothered with any villain at the moment, I am so close to finding out the truth.