The alarm blared at 7:00 AM sharp, a relentless buzz that drilled into Ramses' skull. His hand groped for the snooze button, knocking over a half-empty mug of cold coffee in the process. The cup toppled off the cluttered bedside table, landing with a dull thud onto a pile of unwashed clothes.
"Five more minutes," he mumbled, pulling the thin blanket over his head. But his phone, as persistent as his problems, vibrated again. Ramses squinted at the screen, his vision blurry from lack of sleep.
10 missed notifications.
He didn't need to read them to know what they were. Another assignment deadline had passed. Another email from his professor would soon follow, laced with concern and disappointment. Another group project chat full of messages he hadn't responded to. Ramses sighed and tossed the phone onto the bed, staring at the ceiling.
His apartment was a disaster. Empty takeout containers lined the counter in the kitchen. A stack of unopened mail teetered dangerously by the front door. The floor was barely visible beneath a sea of laundry, crumpled paper, and random junk he'd given up on organizing. Ramses wasn't lazy—at least, he didn't think so. He just didn't have the energy.
Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom. The mirror greeted him with a cruel reflection. Dark circles under his eyes. Messy black hair that hadn't been combed in days. His once-athletic frame was softer now, the result of too many skipped workouts and too many late-night snacks.
"What happened to you?" he asked his reflection. The person staring back didn't have an answer.
By the time Ramses made it to campus, he was already an hour late for his morning lecture. He slid into the back row, avoiding the professor's glance. Not that it mattered—he wasn't paying attention. His notebook remained blank as the lecture droned on about something he couldn't bring himself to care about.
He used to love school. There was a time when Ramses was the kind of student who sat in the front row, asking questions, scribbling notes furiously. But that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, he felt like he was just going through the motions, pretending to be the person he used to be.
At lunch, he sat alone in the cafeteria, scrolling aimlessly through social media. Everyone seemed so happy, so accomplished. His classmates posted photos of internships, vacations, parties. Ramses closed the app, his stomach tightening with envy and self-loathing.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. He skipped his last class and went home, collapsing onto the couch. The silence of his apartment felt suffocating. His family had called earlier, but he ignored it. He didn't want to lie to them, to tell them he was "doing fine" when he was barely holding it together.
As the evening dragged on, Ramses found himself sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a bowl of instant noodles. The food was cold, but he didn't care. He wasn't hungry anyway. He just sat there, lost in his thoughts, as the weight of his failures pressed down on him.
"I can't keep doing this," he whispered. His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands.
The tears came suddenly, hot and relentless. Ramses didn't even try to stop them. He'd been holding it all in for so long—years of disappointment, of feeling like he was letting everyone down. He felt like he was drowning, and no one could see him sinking.
That was when it happened.
The world went silent.
Ramses looked up, his tear-streaked face twisting in confusion. The hum of the refrigerator was gone. The distant noise of traffic outside his window had vanished. Even the faint ticking of the clock on the wall had stopped.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing eerily in the stillness.
He stood and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain. The street outside was frozen in time. Cars were stopped in mid-motion. A man walking his dog stood like a statue, the leash stretched taut between them.
Ramses grabbed his phone from the table, but the screen wouldn't turn on. He flicked the light switch, but nothing happened. Panic bubbled in his chest.
"What the hell is going on?"
He threw on a jacket and stepped outside. The air was cold and still. The entire world seemed frozen, like someone had pressed pause on a giant remote control. Ramses approached the man with the dog, waving a hand in front of his face. No reaction. He touched the leash—it felt solid, real—but the man and his dog remained eerily still.
Ramses walked further down the street, his heart pounding. He passed a café where people sat frozen in their chairs, coffee cups hovering in mid-air. A cyclist was stuck in the middle of a turn, his wheels suspended above the ground.
At first, Ramses was terrified. But as the reality of the situation sank in, another emotion took over.
Freedom.
The world was frozen, and he was free. No deadlines. No responsibilities. No one to judge him. Ramses laughed, a wild, unrestrained sound that echoed down the empty street.
"I can do whatever I want!"
He ran through the city, reveling in the absurdity of it all. He wandered into a high-end clothing store and tried on expensive suits. He raided a bakery, eating pastries straight from the display case. He stood in the middle of a busy intersection, shouting at the top of his lungs just because he could.
For the first time in years, Ramses felt alive.
As night fell, Ramses returned to his apartment, exhausted but exhilarated. He collapsed onto his couch, staring at the ceiling with a grin on his face.
"This is insane," he said to himself. "But it's amazing."
For the first time in what felt like forever, Ramses wasn't worried about tomorrow. The world had stopped, and for once, he wasn't being left behind.
He fell asleep with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in years.
But as the days stretched on, Ramses would realize that freedom came with a cost.