The ringing in my ears hadn't stopped. It was a low, persistent hum that vibrated in time with the faint throb of the mark on my back.
Every shadow seemed to writhe, every sound amplified, as if the world itself was still shaking.
"Hey, Ethan." Lidia's voice broke through my haze. Her eyes searched mine, her concern evident. She knew something was happening.
I stood up, shaking off the uncomfortable sensation. My body felt weak, as if my blood had drained away.
"Okay, students, please form a line and follow your respective instructors back inside."
Mr. Perkins' voice rang out over the murmuring crowd. "Classes will be postponed for today. Please remain safe. Those who have suffered injuries can head to the infirmary."
Mike placed a hand over my shoulder, his brows furrowed in worry.
"Hey, bro, do you need to go to the infirmary?"
I exchanged glances with Lidia before shaking my head. "No thanks. I'll be okay. Just need to shake it off..I'm fine."
"Are you sure, bro?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks."
Lidia stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I'm heading back to my dorm. I'll try to figure out what's going on. Don't worry Ethan, I'll do my best to help."
I nodded, I have no other choice but to believe her.
"Okay."
A book had been fused with my body, and now all these weird things kept happening. I needed answers.
"Let's meet later. I need to know more about what happened after the fusion."
"Fusion?"
"Yes, that's what I decided to call it," she said.
I nodded stiffly.
She then gave a small, reassuring nod before slipping away into the dispersing crowd.
**************************************
Andrew's House
Inside a dimly lit room, scattered papers and empty snack wrappers littered the ground. Clusters of clothes lay haphazardly in the corner.
On the bed, Andrew lay curled, his face mottled with deep purple bruises, as if struck repeatedly. His frail arms wrapped tightly around himself, a feeble attempt at comfort.
Knock knock.
The sound echoed through the room.
"Andrew? Are you okay in there, sweetie?"
A gentle voice came from the other side of the door. A woman with orange-colored hair, brown eyes, and pale skin stood there quietly, worry etched into her features.
No response...
"Honey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" she tried again, her voice softer this time.
Silence...
Sighing, she placed the plate of food she had brought by the door, exchanging it for another tray-the untouched meal she had left earlier.
She lingered for a moment, pressing a hand against the door as if hoping he could feel her warmth through the cold wood. Then, with a final glance, she turned and walked away toward the kitchen.
Inside the room, Andrew stared at the door, silent tears falling onto the sheets beneath him.
His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.
His gaze shifted to the nightstand where a crumpled piece of paper lay. A knife was stabbed into it, pinning it against the wooden surface. The blade gleamed faintly in the dim light.
The paper bore a single message, scrawled in uneven, jagged handwriting:
Die!...I Hate You!..Die!..Die!
Andrew swallowed hard, his trembling fingers curling into the sheets. The bruises on his body ached, but the pain in his chest was worse.
***********************************
Andrew's mom walked into the kitchen with heavy steps, her worry for Andrew written all over her face. She barely noticed the faint clatter of dishes as she set a cup of coffee on the counter. Her mind elsewhere.
He won't eat. He won't speak.
Did I do something wrong?
He's been like this ever since I came home.
While she was lost in thought, a voice broke through.
"Caroline, is that boy still locked up in his room?"
She turned to see Richard leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, with a look of irritation on his face.
Caroline exhaled. "Yes, but he refuses to speak to me. Did something happen while I was away?"
Richard sighed, shaking his head. "You know how kids are these days. He probably got himself into some trouble at school. Maybe the other kids at school are giving him a hard time again." He took a slow sip of his coffee. "You baby him too much, Caroline. He needs to toughen up."
She frowned. "I just... I feel like there's more to it. He barely looks at me. I've never seen him like this."
Richard placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "He'll be fine. Let him sulk for a while. He's a teenager-it's what they do."
Caroline hesitated but nodded. "Maybe you're right. I just hate seeing him like this."
Richard's lips curved into a reassuring smile. "You worry too much. Give him space, and he'll snap out of it."
She sighed and leaned into his touch for a brief moment before stepping away. "I need to get ready for work."
"Go ahead. I'll check on him later," Richard assured her.
Caroline smiled faintly, brushing her fingers through his hair before leaving the kitchen.
The moment she was gone, Richard's placed his cup down, rolling his shoulders before heading toward the hallway. His footsteps slow, as he made his way to Andrew's door.
He pressed his palm against it, "Andrew... Open the door."
Silence.
Richard's jaw tightened as he gripped the doorknob, testing it.
Locked.
"You know you can't ignore me forever, son."
And with a sigh, he walked away.