The sun was barely up, but Lucas was already awake. His body lay motionless in bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. The pale light of the morning filtered through the blinds, but it did little to ease the heavy, gnawing sensation inside of him. Every morning felt like the first day of a long, unbearable stretch of time. The shadows in his room had become more familiar than his own reflection.
He could hear the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen, the distant chatter of people on the street, but those sounds were muffled, distant, as if they belonged to another world. In his world, there was only the silence, the one that never left him, no matter how loud the world outside got.
The day was always worse than the night. At least at night, he could hide in the comfort of his own space, convinced that no one could see him. But during the day, the world was full of eyes. People's eyes. People's judgments. Everyone always seemed to stare at him with pity, or worse, fear.
He stood up slowly, feeling the weight of the air around him pressing down. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, staring at his reflection. The face looking back at him was the same, but it felt wrong. His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, but it wasn't just the physical exhaustion. It was the weariness in his soul, the constant fight to keep himself from falling apart.
He checked the bathroom door twice. The lock was secure, just as it should be. But the feeling... the feeling never left him. He could still feel someone watching, lurking behind the door, just waiting for him to turn his back.
The walk to school felt endless, each step an agonizing effort to move forward, to pretend he was normal. He passed his classmates, the sounds of their laughter grating on his ears, filling his mind with whispers he didn't want to hear. "Look at him. He's so weird. He's not like us." He tried to ignore it, tried to keep his head down and move quickly. The faster he moved, the less time he had to think about the constant hum of paranoia in his mind.
When he finally reached school, he sat alone at his desk. The teacher's voice was a blur, the words floating by like whispers in the wind. His classmates would sometimes glance over at him, their eyes lingering just a moment too long, but Lucas pretended not to notice. He kept his focus on the desk in front of him, the patterns in the wood beginning to blur as his mind spiraled deeper into his thoughts.
He had never been good at making friends. It wasn't that he didn't want to; it was that he couldn't. Every time he tried to speak, the words felt like they got stuck in his throat, tangled with the fear and confusion in his mind. He could feel his heart racing, his hands trembling as the voices in his head grew louder. "You're not normal. They're all talking about you. They know what's wrong with you."
The sound of the bell ringing broke him out of his thoughts, signaling the end of class. He stood up, grateful for the escape. His classmates filed out of the room, leaving him alone again. The empty hallway stretched out before him, a never-ending corridor of loneliness.
Back at home, the familiar routine began again. He locked the doors, checked the windows, and inspected every corner of the house. But today, something was different. He couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. The shadows felt thicker, more oppressive. The walls seemed to press in on him, the air heavy with something he couldn't name.
He went to his room, locking the door behind him, and sat on his bed. The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second stretching out, as if time itself was mocking him. He could feel his mind slipping, unraveling bit by bit, each moment pushing him further into the abyss.
Outside, the world continued on, oblivious to the battle raging inside him. But Lucas knew that no one could understand. No one could know what it was like to live with this constant fear, this constant doubt. No one could see the shadows that lurked just beyond the edge of his vision, waiting for the moment when they would consume him completely.
The nightfall came too quickly, and with it, the familiar chill settled in. Lucas lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the darkness swallowing everything around him. The silence was louder than ever. The voices had returned, whispering in the corners of his mind, reminding him that he was never truly alone.
As his eyes fluttered shut, he whispered to himself, "Just make it through the night. Just make it through one more night."
But deep down, he knew the truth. He was already lost. The shadows had already claimed him, and there was no escaping them now.