2025, march 25 - 6:00 pm
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Wait...!?
My brows furrowed as the name struck me like a forgotten whisper from the past.
"Ryan?"
I had written those words once—Ryan killed me. But the dream had faded, leaving behind only scattered fragments, blurred and incomplete. I shifted my gaze without moving my head, catching a glimpse of him in the reflection of the crimson moon. His shadow stretched behind him like a scarf, and in that moment, he looked exactly like the boy from my dream years ago.
I had written he killed me, but nothing more. I had forgotten where, how, or why. Tch. I scoffed at my past self for dismissing it as just another nightmare.
My breath quickened. My heartbeat pounded faster, rising like a crescendo in an unseen symphony. My vision darkened at the edges, as if a veil of shadow had been pulled over my eyes. Maybe it was just the eerie atmosphere closing in around me.
"Calm yourself," I muttered under my breath, forcing my body to steady.
Pat!
The sudden touch sent me leaping forward, my foot landing in something unpleasant.
"Ugh." A wave of disgust crawled up my spine, but I ignored it. Spinning around, I searched for whatever had touched me.
"S-Sorry..."
It was Ryan. His voice trembled, his hands slightly shaking, his entire frame stiff as if he had just made a terrible mistake. His gaze was locked in one direction—toward our bus.
His eyes were wide, unfocused, as though he was trying to piece together a puzzle only he could see.
Frowning, I followed his gaze.
The bus was the same as always—faded yellow paint, streaked with grime, parked beneath towering trees. The crimson moon cast long, distorted shadows across its surface, making it look almost... wrong. But that was just a trick of the light. Wasn''t it?
The silence stretched too long.
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"What''s wrong?" I asked.
Ryan didn''t move. His eyes stayed fixed on the bus, his breathing uneven. Then, barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"D-Don''t you see it?"
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"What the hell is he talking about?" I thought, my eyes narrowing as I followed his gaze once more.
Nothing.
Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just the same yellow bus under the crimson moon, the same towering trees casting elongated shadows. I scoffed at myself—how could I have been so shaken just because he resembled the boy from my dream?
If anything… it’s the silence…?
Wait—what!?
What!? What!? What!?
My thoughts spiraled as realization struck.
How is it so silent?
The students, always chattering as if talking were as vital as breathing, were silent.
No, no, no!
Panic clawed its way up my throat.
The ceaseless hum of insects, the soft rustling of leaves, the distant murmurs of life—all of it was gone.
The world had gone completely, impossibly still.
I looked at Ryan. He was just as dumbfounded as I was. No—he was worse. Fear had drained the color from his face, his temples slick with sweat that soaked into his headband. His mouth hung open, as if gravity itself was pulling it downward.
"Ryan… let''s go?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
I was scared too. The silence was suffocating. Every nerve in my body screamed that something was terribly wrong. My instincts urged me to move, to run—but I thought if we just got inside the bus, we’d be safe.
Ryan didn’t respond. His breathing had turned shallow and erratic. Then, barely audible, his voice trembled through the silence.
"D-Don''t you see it?"
I swallowed hard.
"See… what?"
Ryan''s lips quivered. His hands clenched into fists, his entire body stiff with terror. And then, in a voice so weak it was almost swallowed by the emptiness around us, he whispered:
"The driver… he’s not moving."
My breath hitched.
Ryan''s eyes widened further. His veins bulged at his temples, his breathing becoming more erratic by the second.
The driver wasn''t moving?
Slowly, I turned my head toward the bus.
The driver was under the bus, fixing a mechanical problem. His cellphone light cast a dim glow on the underside, illuminating a leak. Maybe it was a problem with the fluid.
But…
The fluid wasn’t leaking.
It had stopped—suspended in mid-air.
A mass of liquid, thick and unnatural, hung just above the driver’s face. It should have splattered down, drenching him, seeping into his clothes, but it didn’t move. It just stayed there, as if frozen in time.
My chest tightened, and a chill ran down my spine.
My mind screamed at me to hide, to run—but we were in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t completely dark, not enough to obscure everything, but just dark enough to make every shadow feel menacing.
My fingers curled into a fist, my nails digging into my palm. A drop of sweat trickled down my forehead.
Grip.
Another chill shot through me.
Slowly, I turned my head, heart pounding.
Something had grabbed my hand.
Ryan.
I exhaled sharply, relief washing over me—but only for a second.
His hand was like ice. It trembled violently, his grip weak and unsteady. His breathing was so uneven, so broken, that his legs wobbled beneath him, barely holding him upright. He looked like he was on the verge of collapsing.
"C-Calm down," I tried to reassure him, but my voice betrayed me.
What came out was nothing more than a dry, breathless whisper.
We were both terrified.
With a dull thud, Ryan’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground. His breathing was ragged, his face pale, his body trembling uncontrollably.
I wasn’t much better—confused, shaken, my mind racing. But at least my legs were still steady. If something did go wrong, I could still run.
I glanced at Ryan.
A thought crept into my mind. A selfish, terrible thought.
If something starts chasing us… at least he’ll be the distraction while I run.
For a moment, I almost felt proud of myself for staying on my feet.
Almost.
But the silence pressed in again, and I swallowed hard.
Because if I had to run… that meant something was coming.
I pondered whether I should call the teacher, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. I feared that doing so might attract something—something that would chase us, something we couldn’t escape.
"Let''s just stay here. The teacher will come get us if we''re late," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
Ryan nodded, his hands folded in the dirt, eyes cast downward, lost in thought.
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2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm
Minutes passed, stretching into
eternity.
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2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm
Hours slipped by, and yet nothing changed.
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2025, March 25 - 6:00 pm
More time passed as we waited ( Did it? )