The moment Sharon stepped off the plane, a strange sensation gripped her. It was as if something deep within her stirred awake, a feeling both foreign and familiar. Like she had always known this place. Like she had always belonged here.
A dull ache bloomed in her chest, spreading through her ribs and down into her stomach—a hollow, twisting pain she couldn’t understand.
She blinked, trying to shake it off. No overthinking. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Stella, on the other hand, had no such worries. She spun in circles like a child, arms outstretched, laughing at nothing. “We’re finally here, girls! Scotland! Can you believe it?”
Mishkha chuckled, watching her. “You look like a total idiot.”
Sharon smiled, despite the strange weight pressing on her. Whatever this feeling was, she could ignore it. She had to.
They booked a cab, and as soon as they settled in, Stella burst into song, humming excitedly about all the places they would visit.
Sharon, however, couldn’t shake the growing discomfort clawing at her chest. The closer they got to the city, the worse it became. Her fingers clenched against her lap as her breath came quicker.
What was happening to her?
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She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t ruin this moment for them.
Instead, she focused on the world outside—the sky was overcast, heavy with dark clouds that hung unnaturally low. The roads were slick with recent rain, reflecting the dim glow of streetlights. The air itself felt… thick. Heavy. Watching.
She turned toward Mishkha, who sat beside her, lost in her sketchbook. The faint scratch of pencil against paper was steady, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.
“What are you painting?” Sharon asked, her voice quieter than she intended.
Mishkha didn’t look up. “You’ll see when it’s done. It’s something good.”
Something about the way she said it made Sharon’s skin prickle.
She swallowed, forcing herself to look away. Just nerves. That’s all.
---
The apartment was small but cozy. A large window overlooked the quiet road outside, where streetlights flickered faintly against the creeping dusk.
Stella rushed ahead, practically bouncing toward the door. “I got it!” she called out.
Mishkha leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Go on, then. Be useful for once.”
Sharon exhaled slowly, trying to center herself. It’s just a new place. A big change. That’s all.
She turned her gaze to the street.
And that’s when she saw him.
A figure stood on the far left side of the road. Still. Unmoving. Watching.
Sharon’s pulse spiked.
She couldn’t make out his face—his features were blurred, shadowed, wrong. But she could feel his eyes on her. A deep, hollow stare that seeped into her skin like cold fingers.
“Mishkha,” she whispered, voice tight.
Mishkha glanced at her. “What?”
Sharon swallowed. “Someone’s staring at us.”
Mishkha followed her gaze, her expression calm. “Where?”
Sharon pointed. But—
He was gone.
The street was empty. Silent.
Sharon’s stomach turned. “I swear, he was just there.”
Mishkha raised an eyebrow. “Sharon…”
“I’m not joking.”
Mishkha exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “You’re overthinking again. We just got here. Enjoy the moment. Live like it’s your last time.”
Something about the way she said it made Sharon uneasy.
But before she could say anything, Stella’s voice broke through. “Are you guys gonna stand there all night, or are you actually gonna help me with these bags?”
Sharon hesitated. Maybe Mishkha was right. Maybe it was just exhaustion, or the stress of moving somewhere completely new.
She forced herself to laugh and stepped inside. Mishkha followed, closing the door behind her.
But as the lock clicked into place, out on the street—
The figure appeared again.
Standing in the exact same spot. Watching.
This time, no one saw him. Not even Sharon.
---