2025, March 25 – 6:00 PM


    Many hours had passed. The teacher hadn’t come to find us. The driver hadn’t moved. The fluid remained frozen in midair—suspended, motionless, as if time itself had stopped. The moon still lingered in the exact same spot, like a baby’s toy hanging from an invisible thread.


    Ryan was asleep on the gravel road while I stood guard. We had assigned shifts for rest, but I couldn’t sleep—not in conditions like this.


    Snore... snore...


    Ryan’s soft snoring was the only sound. Everywhere else, there was silence. Too much silence.


    Unsettled, my thoughts spiraled again...


    The driver isn’t moving? Or... he can’t move? Is something restraining him?


    Even if there were a biological reason for their stillness—some kind of mass paralysis—why is the fluid still frozen in midair?


    Could it be some kind of toxic gas? Maybe everyone inside the bus fell unconscious? But if that were the case, why are Ryan and I still fine?


    I hadn’t seriously considered time stopping—it was too much to process. It wasn’t even a natural phenomenon. This world ran on cause and effect. My rational mind dismissed the idea.


    And yet, some part of me wished it were true.


    By now, we had been outside the bus for a long time. I had somewhat calmed down. No one had come after us. There was no sign of toxic gas, no symptoms of poisoning. And, strangely enough, I had started to find some comfort in this dumb silence.


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    "I didn’t belong there anyway," I muttered under my breath, glancing at Ryan, who was still snoring.


    GRRR!


    A deep growl echoed in my stomach.


    "None of that matters right now. We need food and water to survive."


    I had made up my mind—we needed to go back inside the bus, at least once. My breath was shaky, betraying my hesitation, but hunger was pushing me toward that decision.


    "Okay," I said, standing up.


    Just then, Ryan stirred awake, rubbing his eyes. A faint print of drool marked the side of his mouth. He looked at me, confused.


    "What okay?" he asked, still groggy.


    Despite being trapped outside together, we hadn''t spoken much. I wasn’t the type to start conversations unless necessary, and maybe he was the same. He had stayed silent the whole time—perhaps out of fear, wary of attracting the attention of something dangerous.


    "We have to go inside the bus. At least once."


    "We need water. Any snacks we can find."


    To be fair, we were headed to the mountains for a school trek—a three-day trip. I was certain we were in the middle of a jungle. If we followed the road, we might reach a village, and maybe they could help us. But I had no idea how far that village was.


    That was why we needed food and water. We had to be prepared for a long journey.


    What took the bus two hours might take us more than half a day on foot.


    Ryan was dumbfounded. The corner of his mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but then it closed again. He shook his head and gave a deep nod.


    I nodded back, then glanced around before stretching my arms and legs. I gestured for Ryan to do the same.


    To be honest, he would likely be a burden. But going alone into an unknown situation didn’t sit right with me. Besides, Ryan was weak-willed. If danger arose, I could outrun him. That meant I had to take him with me—he was a one-time lifeline, after all.


    After a few minutes of preparation, we were ready to dash to the bus.


    "Ryan, are you ready?" I asked, the corner of my mouth tilting upward slightly. Not that I was thinking of anything cruel—I swear.


    He nodded. I began counting slowly.


    1...


    2...


    3...


    Dash!


    We sprinted toward the bus, not looking anywhere else. Ryan was slow—I was already ahead of him. I deliberately slowed my pace, falling slightly behind him.


    The corner of my mouth curled up. I’m faster. I have more stamina. That fact made me... pleased.


    Ryan reached the door first. He turned to look at me, veins bulging, sweat dripping from his forehead. He was clearly nervous. I watched him, emotionless.


    I nodded.


    Ryan hesitated for a second, then stepped onto the bus. I followed close behind.


    Gasp!


    Ryan’s breath hitched. His eyes widened in shock.


    I quickly followed his gaze—


    …!!!!


    Nothing seemed out of place.


    The students were exactly where they were supposed to be. Some were laughing, some frowning, and the teacher was on the phone, likely speaking with the head teacher, asking for assistance.


    But something was... off.


    There was no movement.


    Those who were laughing kept laughing, over and over, as if they were stuck in a loop. A fast-forwarded, unnatural loop.


    Every single person was repeating the exact moment they had been frozen in.


    Again.


    And again.


    And again.


    My lips curled into a smile. I muttered slowly—


    "I was right."