The classroom smelled like a mix of stale paper, dry-erase markers, and Mr. Sanders' desperation.
He stood by the door, talking to the group of students who somehow managed to gather around him like moths to a fluorescent light.
It was as if his tie—slightly crooked, sleeves rolled up like he was ready to wrestle a bear—had some kind of magnetic pull.
Or maybe it was just the faint aroma of coffee that lingered on him, making it easier to forget that we were all slowly dying a little inside.
I didn't mind, though. The chaos of the classroom was just background noise.
The real drama?
It was happening inside my head.
The headache hit me halfway through math class, right when Mr. Sanders called on me to explain long division.
Not that I needed long division—I already knew the answer.
I always knew the answer.
The numbers floated through my mind like they were written in neon lights on the board.
But it wasn't just numbers I could hear.
It was Mr. Sanders himself, thinking about the answer before he even asked the question.
It was always like this—voices in my head, snippets of thoughts that didn't belong to me.
At first, I thought I was just imagining things, but lately, it had been getting worse.
Louder.
Clearer.
"Jayden?" Mr. Sanders' voice snapped me out of my haze. "Long division. Twenty-seven divided by three?"
I blinked at the board, where the numbers were scrawled in messy white chalk.
My temples were already starting to throb, but I forced myself to focus.
"Nine," I muttered, knowing I sounded like a zombie.
Mr. Sanders looked mildly surprised but nodded. "That's right. Good job, Jayden."
I could hear a few muffled snickers from the back of the room.
Nathaniel and his gang, no doubt.
They always found something to laugh about when it came to me.
"Guess even the quiet kid can do math," Nathaniel whispered to one of his friends.
They both snickered again.
I ignored them, staring at the board, pretending I didn't hear it.
Pretending I couldn't also hear Nathaniel's thoughts: Loser. Bet he cheated somehow.
My hands clenched under the desk.
I wanted to yell at him, to tell him I hadn't cheated, but what was the point?
I was eleven, skinny as a stick, and weird in ways I couldn't explain.
Kids like me didn't win arguments with kids like Nathaniel.
The bell rang, saving me from the awkward silence. I grabbed my books and bolted out the door, weaving through the crowded hallways.
The noise of hundreds of kids—laughing, shouting, lockers slamming shut, the shuffle of feet against the linoleum floor—should have drowned out everything else.
But it didn't.
I could still hear their thoughts, a jumble of emotions and random words pressing into my skull.
Forgot my science homework.
Is Mia looking at me?
God, I hate this place.
By the time I reached my favourite hiding spot—the old storage room near the gym—my head felt like it was going to explode.
I shut the door behind me and slumped against it, closing my eyes.
The voices faded, but the headache lingered.
I tried to breathe through it, focusing on the dusty smell of the room and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above me.
The storage room was small, cluttered with old gym equipment no one used anymore: deflated basketballs, broken jump ropes, a stack of folding chairs.
It wasn't much, but it was quiet.
Quiet was what I needed.
Ever since I could remember, I'd been… different.
It started small, like knowing what someone was about to say before they said it.
Then there were the dreams.
I'd dream about little things—my mom coming home late from work, the fire alarm going off at school—and then they'd actually happen.
At first, I thought it was a coincidence.
But the more it happened, the more I realized it wasn't.
I wanted to tell my mom, but I couldn't.
She already had enough on her plate, working two jobs just to keep us afloat.
She didn't need to hear about her son's freaky brain powers on top of everything else.
Besides, in a world like ours, this wasn't exactly unheard of.
Most people had powers—not everyone, but enough that it was normal.
Some people could fly.
Some could lift cars or turn invisible or shoot fire from their hands.
The lucky ones became superheroes, saving the world and getting their faces on cereal boxes.
The not-so-lucky ones… well, they became supervillains.
And then there were people like me, who didn't know what they were supposed to be.
I rubbed my temples, trying to push the voices out of my head.
But instead of fading, they got sharper, angrier.
Should I recruit this kid?
The device seems to be reacting strongly to him.
The words weren't mine, but they echoed in my brain like a bad song I couldn't shake.
I clamped my hands over my ears, though I knew it wouldn't help.
The voices continued to swirl in my mind, their words sharp and insistent.
What kind of power does he have to make the device react this strongly?
The voice pondered, an unfamiliar edge of curiosity mixed with something darker, more calculating.
My breath caught in my throat as I tried to focus.
The pain in my head was unbearable, but the thought that these voices weren't just random whispers—they were directed at me—was worse.
I need to watch him more closely.
The voice had shifted now, its tone more deliberate, almost… cautious.
We can't risk losing him. Not yet.
My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.
Who was this?
What device were they talking about?
And why was I being talked about for so long?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise, but it was no use.
The voices pressed on, becoming louder again, a jumble of thoughts that weren't mine.
We need to be sure he's worth the investment.
That sentence was followed by a long silence in my head, as if the voice was waiting, observing.
My heart pounded in my chest.
I felt like a lab rat, an experiment someone was conducting without my consent.
They were watching me.
Waiting for something.
But what?
The thought of them—whoever they were—made my blood run cold.
I stood shakily from the floor of the storage room, trying to steady myself against the wall.
The voices still lingered, quiet now, but the sense of being hunted, observed, had only deepened.
I will keep an eye on him.
The voice in my head was matter-of-fact, its power undeniable.
Let's see if he can be useful.
If not, he's nothing more than a liability.
I shook my head, trying to clear it.
I had to get out of here.
But I was too scared to move.
***
Just as my knees began to buckle from the strain of holding myself up against the wall, the door to the storage room creaked open.
Anna stepped inside, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of me standing there, looking as pale as a ghost.
She paused for a moment, studying me.
"Hey, Jayden," she said softly, her voice quiet but concerned. "Mr. Sanders is looking for you. I think he wants to talk."
I blinked, still disoriented, my head spinning from the barrage of voices that had been pounding away at my mind.
The words they had spoken—the invisible men—were still echoing in my thoughts, like a broken record stuck on repeat.
It was as if they were always there, pressing in from all sides, not letting me focus on anything else.
Anna stepped closer, her gaze scanning me.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice a bit more hesitant now.
She took a step back, looking me over with more scrutiny, as if she could see right through me.
"Yeah," I muttered, forcing a weak smile despite the pain that gripped my skull. "I'm fine. Just… a headache."
Anna didn't seem convinced, but she gave me a small nod. "Come on, then. Let's go."
I hesitated for a moment before pushing myself off the wall.
I felt like I was going to collapse, but there was no choice.
Anna had already turned to leave, and I followed her, taking slow, deliberate steps.
The hallway outside was bustling with students—chattering, laughing, lockers slamming shut, the shuffle of feet against the linoleum floor.
It was all so loud, so constant.
Yet, to me, it was nothing compared to the noise in my head.
As we walked, I could hear the stream of thoughts flowing through the minds of everyone around us.
It was like a chaotic symphony playing inside my skull.
I forgot my homework.
I hope I don't get called on today.
Did she just look at me?
It was all so overwhelming.
But nothing, nothing compared to the invisible men I'd heard earlier.
Anna seemed to be walking with purpose, her footsteps steady, her expression unreadable.
"So," she said, breaking the silence with a casualness that felt out of place given the situation. "You into games, or are you one of those 'I don't have time' people?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic.
Games?
Right now?
My mind was racing with far more pressing matters, but Anna didn't seem to notice.
Or maybe she was trying to distract me, trying to get me to focus on something else since I looked stressed out.
"Uh, yeah, I play sometimes," I replied, my voice sounding rough, as though it hadn't been used much. "I'm kind of into strategy games... puzzles, stuff like that."
Anna smiled, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of normalcy, like we were just two kids talking about whatever was on our minds.
"I get that. It's like, the more you figure out, the more satisfying it is when you finally crack it, right?"
"Yeah," I agreed, my voice a little steadier now. "What about you?"
"I'm a big fan of RPGs," Anna said, her eyes lighting up. "Anything with a good story, really. But mostly, I love a good mystery."
I raised an eyebrow. "A mystery? Like what?"
Her smile faded slightly, and she lowered her voice as if letting me in on some secret.
"I'll tell you later. But listen," she added, her tone shifting to one of urgency. "You need to act normal. They're following us."
My heart skipped a beat.
I froze mid-step, my head snapping around, scanning the hallway.
My senses were on high alert, but I didn't see anyone suspicious.
No one was looking at us too closely, no one seemed to be watching us—so who was following us?
Anna, however, kept walking, as though everything was normal.
She wasn't looking around, wasn't acting like there was anything wrong.
And for a second, I wondered if she was just messing with me.
But her face was tense, her eyes darting around like she was waiting for something.
Or someone.
"Who?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as my thoughts raced.
Anna didn't answer immediately.
She just kept walking at a steady pace, as though trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.
But then she leaned closer to me, her voice dropping even lower. "Mr. Sanders isn't actually looking for you."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
Anna swallowed, her expression serious now.
"I overheard two men—invisible men—talking about you. They were discussing how they need to keep an eye on you."
My blood ran cold.
I could hear their voices in my head, but to hear her say it out loud…
It was like everything I thought was happening was now confirmed.
They weren't just whispering in my mind.
These people were real.
And they were hunting me.
These men—whoever they were—were here, now, watching us.
Anna kept walking, her tone steady, never wavering.
"One of them must have some kind of ability that creates a barrier which prevents sound from escaping, but with my heightened senses, I could still hear them. I don't know how they're doing it, but they're trying to stay hidden."
I could feel the air around me grow heavier.
I was used to hearing voices, to picking up on the thoughts of others, but this?
This was different.
I wasn't hearing thoughts now; I was hearing words.
Their words.
But why had Anna heard them too?
How?
My gaze darted around as we passed a group of students hanging out by their lockers, laughing and joking, but all I could hear were the scattered, disjointed thoughts around me.
I think he's cute. Maybe he'll ask me to the dance.
I hope I get an A on the test. I could really use it.
Did she see that? Did she notice?
Their thoughts were distant, a haze of static, and I longed for silence.
The invisible men, though—their words cut through the noise, clear and deliberate.
They were focused.
They were coming for me.
Anna leaned closer as we passed Mr. Sanders' classroom.
He was talking to a group of students outside, completely unaware of what was happening around him.
"I don't know how much longer we have before they catch us," she murmured. "But I think they know we're onto them."
My stomach twisted.
I glanced at Mr. Sanders, but he didn't look at us.
He didn't acknowledge our presence at all.
We moved on, rounding a corner, and Anna guided me into a narrow corridor.
She paused for a moment to catch her breath before speaking again.
"We have to keep moving," she urged. "But if we don't find a way to lose them, they'll catch us. I can feel them getting closer."
I could feel my heart racing in my chest, the throb of my headache only getting worse.
But now, with the terror of being hunted, my mind was spinning a thousand miles an hour.
Anna kept glancing over her shoulder as we moved down the hall.
"We can't let them corner us," she said, eyes darting. "They'll do whatever it takes to get us."
I opened my mouth to ask why they were following me—why I was so important—but I didn't get the chance.
The voices returned in my head, the words cutting through the noise like a blade.
They're getting away!
Prepare for the next move. Don't let them slip away.
I froze.
My breath caught in my throat.
Without thinking, I grabbed Anna's arm, my heart pounding.
"Anna," I whispered urgently, "They're right behind us."
Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't panic.
Of course, she must have wondered how I could hear them.
Instead, she seemed... focused.
"I know," she said, her voice steady despite the fear I knew she must be feeling. "But we need to act fast. If we don't lose them now, they'll catch us."
I could feel the panic rising in my chest.
I didn't know who these men were.
I didn't know what they wanted.
But one thing was clear—I couldn't let them find me.
Not now.
Not ever.
Anna took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she seemed to gather herself.
"Prepare yourself," she said in a low voice. "We need to get out of here, and we need to get out fast."
I nodded, but my heart felt like it was hammering against my ribs.
I wasn't sure I could outrun these men—not unless we acted quickly.
Without another word, Anna grabbed my hand and pulled me down another hallway.
I could barely keep up, my mind still reeling from the voices I'd heard, from the realization that I wasn't just hearing their thoughts—I was hearing their plans.
And those plans didn't sound like something I could escape.
As we rounded another corner, Anna's expression grew serious.
She moved with a kind of precision, like she knew exactly what had to be done.
"We need to get to the back exit," she said. "They're probably watching all the other doors, but the back... it's our only chance."
I nodded again, though a deep, nagging feeling wouldn't leave me.
I felt like we were being watched, and with every step, it only grew stronger.
The invisible men were closing in on us, and time was running out.