What are they talking about? Nyxander wondered, his curiosity igniting like a match striking against the rough surface of his thoughts. From afar, he could only catch the faint echoes of their serious conversation, fragmented whispers that stirred a restlessness deep within him. The way Rose tilted her head slightly, her lips moving with deliberate care, paired with the subtle, measured nods of the man she spoke to, suggested something layered, something far more intricate than a casual exchange.
The moment stretched like taut elastic, vibrating with unspoken questions that refused to snap. It was as if time itself had paused, demanding answers he couldn't yet reach.
"Felix! What are you doing just standing there?"
Milo's voice shattered the fragile bubble of his focus. His head peeked out from the supermarket's glass door, his tone laced with playful impatience. "Come on, man! I got the yogurt, so grab whatever snack you want to go with it!"
Felix blinked, reality snapping back into focus like a curtain pulled aside. His gaze shifted toward Milo inside the bustling supermarket. "Yeah, coming!" he called, his voice masking the slight unease that still clung to him. He strode into the supermarket, forcing his mind to focus on the moment.
Yet even as he joined Milo, the image of Rose and the mysterious man remained lodged in his mind, like an echo that refused to fade. "What could it be... Humm... Hah," he muttered under his breath, his thoughts spiraling.
The soft muttering wasn't lost on Milo, who had been engrossed in savoring his yogurt. His attention shifted, his brow furrowing with curiosity. "Felix, what's wrong? You've been acting strange ever since we got here," Milo inquired, concern lacing his words.
Felix shook his head quickly, brushing off the question. "Nothing, just some regular thoughts," he replied, his voice low, almost dismissive.
Milo's interest lingered on Felix's demeanor, but he chose to let it slide, for now. With a shrug, he returned to sipping his yogurt, humming a soft tune to himself. They soon returned to their classroom, slipping into their seats as the school day continued.
Miss Tope's entrance was announced by the sharp, rhythmic clack of her high heels striking the tiled floor. The sound cut through the chatter like a knife, drawing the attention of the female students, who had been engrossed in dreamy conversations, and the boys, some of whom had been idly goofing around. Even Felix, whose thoughts had been clouded by the earlier scene, snapped to attention.
Everyone instinctively straightened, their eyes fixating on Miss Tope's commanding presence.
"Hi, everyone," she greeted, her tone firm yet warm.
"Hello, ma'am," the students responded in unison, their voices blending into a harmonious chorus.
Her gaze swept across the room, sharp yet thoughtful, ensuring she had everyone's attention. "Listen attentively," she began, her voice carrying a tone of authority that made the room feel smaller. "Once the bell for closing rings, I want all of you to leave the school premises and head straight home. Do not linger. We've received some concerning news about bullies from a neighboring school causing trouble. To avoid any unnecessary risks, I'm instructing you to head straight home. Especially you boys," she added, her gaze briefly resting on a few familiar troublemakers. "Don't engage in anything. I hope my message is clear."
"Yes, ma'am," the class replied in a unified tone, the seriousness of her words sinking in.
Satisfied, Miss Tope gave a small nod and exited, her heels echoing down the hallway. The classroom settled into its usual rhythm, with lessons continuing until the day drew to a close.
At exactly 3:00 pm, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. A wave of joy rippled through the students. Bags were packed hurriedly, chatter filled the air, and the girls, in particular, seemed to linger at their desks, applying light touches of makeup as though the end of the school day was only the start of their plans.
Felix, however, moved sluggishly. He packed his books into his suitcase with deliberate care, flipping it across his shoulder and gripping its handle tightly. The usual energy that followed the closing bell felt distant to him.
He pushed open the classroom door and stepped into the crowded hallway. The press of bodies, the brushing of shoulders, and the excited murmurs of students all felt muted, like background noise in a dream. Striding through the field, his gaze scanned the familiar crowd until it landed on Milo, who stood waving eagerly.
"Over here!" Milo's voice rang out, cheerful and unmistakable.
Felix stepped closer, his pace steady, and together they left the school premises. Their conversation ebbed and flowed, ranging from lighthearted jokes to observations about the day. The murmuring of passerby students faded into the background as they continued walking along the roadside. Eventually, they boarded a bus, their chatter filling the small pockets of silence between stops.
As they parted ways near their respective houses, they waved at each other, their goodbyes lingering like the fading glow of a sunset. But even as Felix walked toward his door, a quiet unease gnawed at him, a feeling that the day's unanswered questions would not be so easily silenced.
Felix took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of the day, and opened the door. The faint creak of the hinges broke the stillness as he stepped in. "I'm home," he called, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion, while he bent down to slip off his shoes.
"Welcome back, dear," his mother's warm voice floated from the kitchen, her tone as soothing as the aroma of a freshly cooked meal wafting through the house.
Felix picked up his shoes, aligning them neatly in the rack with careful precision. As he moved further inside, his eyes fell on his father, seated in his usual chair, deeply immersed in the pages of an old diary.
"Hum," Felix murmured, pausing in the doorway, his gaze lingering on his father's silent, almost statuesque figure.
Without looking up, his father spoke, his voice calm yet perceptive. "Why the sudden gaze? I hope everything is alright."
"Oh, yeah," Felix replied, slightly startled. "It's just... it's rare to see you around."
Before his father could respond, his mother's voice chimed in, a gentle yet commanding presence from the dining area. "Felix, quick, go upstairs and change. Dinner is ready."
Her words were punctuated by the clinking of dishes being set on the table. Felix turned toward her, giving a small nod. "Hum," he hummed in acknowledgment before heading up the stairs to his room.
A few minutes later, he returned, now dressed in a simple round-neck shirt and black shorts. He slid into the chair across from his mother while his father sat at the head of the table, his presence steady and unyielding.
The dining room settled into a hushed stillness, the air filled only with the rhythmic clinking of spoons and the occasional soft scrape of plates. It was a silence that seemed to speak louder than any words, a fleeting moment of calm.
As they neared the end of their meal, his father broke the quiet. "How was school today? I hope there wasn't any... strange atmosphere."
The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. Felix noticed the brief, silent exchange of glances between his parents, their eyes communicating something unsaid.
"I don't get what you mean by that," Felix responded, reaching for a napkin to clean his mouth. "But everything was normal. School activities went as usual."
His mother's face softened, her voice lifting with relief. "That's good to hear."
Felix stood, pushing his chair back. "Alright, I'm heading back to my room."
As he walked toward the stairs, his mother's voice followed him like a gentle reminder. "Make sure you sit and relax for a few minutes before going to bed. You don't want to deal with indigestion."
"I got you, Mom," he replied, smiling faintly as he ascended the stairs. The door to his room creaked open, welcoming him into its quiet solitude. With a soft click, he closed it behind him, the world outside fading into the distance.
He moved to his reading table, pulling out the chair. With a deep sigh, he sank into it, the weight of the day pressing against his shoulders. His gaze drifted to the left, where his once-broken bed now stood perfectly repaired, a silent mystery.
"What could have happened while I was asleep?" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the whisper of the cold breeze seeping through his window.
Shaking off the lingering questions, he turned back to his desk, pulling out his books to work on the day's assignments. The room fell into a quiet rhythm, the scratching of his pen the only sound.
Fifteen minutes passed before sleep claimed him, his head resting heavily on the desk. But sleep brought no peace. In the depths of his dreams, a blue figure materialized, its form hazy yet unmistakable, its voice a haunting call for help.
"Stop..." the figure said, its tone urgent, pulling at him like a distant echo.
Felix jolted awake, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "What was that?" he whispered to himself, his voice shaking slightly. "Why did that figure look exactly like Rose?"
He sat there, his mind racing, trying to dismiss the vision. "This must be because I've been overthinking today's encounter," he reasoned aloud, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his doubt.
Leaning back in his chair, he tilted his head to the ceiling, seeking solace in its blank expanse. Yet the image returned, more vivid this time, and with it came a voice.
"I would rather die than be a plaything."
Felix froze, his breath hitching. "Hum..." he murmured, shaking his head as if to dislodge the vision.
But it persisted, the blue figure now clearer, its features unmistakable. It was Rose. And the background... there was no doubt about it. "That's the Delightful Recreation Garden," Felix whispered, his voice trembling.
He shot to his feet, his body propelled by a surge of urgency. "Hum," he grunted, his mind racing.
Carefully, he opened his door, the hinges groaning softly as he moved with deliberate quiet. He tiptoed down the stairs, each step measured to avoid detection. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room, scanning for signs of his parents.
Reaching the front door, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle. Taking a deep breath, he pulled it open and stepped out into the cool night air, the door clicking shut behind him.
The silence of the night greeted him, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city. With determined strides, Felix moved forward, his destination clear, his heart pounding with an unexplainable mix of dread and resolve.