Flickering Shadows
657 Words
Elara didn’t sleep that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, the image of the empty photograph returned—haunting, silent, wrong. She lay on her bed staring at the ceiling, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, waiting for another message.
But none came.
The silence felt heavier than fear.
By morning, her head ached and her body felt numb, but she forced herself to get ready anyway. If she stayed home, she thought, she might disappear faster. As if movement itself was proof of existence.
She stood in front of the mirror again.
“I’m Elara Vale,” she said aloud.
The girl in the mirror repeated her movements but offered no reassurance.
---
At school, something felt… thinner.
Not quieter.
Not emptier.
Thinner—like reality itself was stretching too far.
As Elara walked down the hallway, a group of students passed through her, brushing her shoulder. No apologies followed. No annoyed looks.
It was as if she were air.
She stopped walking.
“Hey,” she said, louder this time. “Watch where you’re going.”
No one turned around.
Her chest tightened.
*They didn’t hear me.*
---
In class, things were worse.
She raised her hand to answer a question.
The teacher called on someone else.
Again.
And again.
Finally, Elara stood up.
“I know the answer,” she said, voice shaking.
The room stayed silent.
The teacher blinked. “Who said that?”
A student laughed nervously. “Sir… no one did.”
Elara’s legs felt weak.
“I’m right here,” she whispered.
No one looked at her.
For the first time in her life, Elara felt true fear—not the kind that made your heart race, but the kind that made you feel unreal.
---
During break time, she rushed to the restroom and locked herself inside a stall. Her breathing became uneven as she tried to calm herself.
*Think. You need proof,* she told herself.
She pulled out her phone and opened the camera.
She took a photo of herself.
The image loaded slowly.
Her heart stopped.
The bathroom was there.
The mirror was there.
The lights were there.
But she wasn’t.
The space where she stood was empty.
Elara covered her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered. “This can’t be real.”
Her phone buzzed again.
**Unknown:**
*You checked the photos, didn’t you?*
Tears blurred her vision.
**Elara:** *Who are you?*
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
**Unknown:**
*Someone who hasn’t forgotten you.*
---
Elara skipped the rest of her classes that day.
She walked home, hugging herself as if that might keep her from fading completely. When she reached the house, she found her aunt in the kitchen.
“Aunt May,” Elara said quickly. “I need to ask you something.”
Her aunt looked up—then frowned slightly.
“Yes?”
“You remember me, right?” Elara asked. “Your niece?”
Aunt May tilted her head. “Of course I remember my niece.”
Relief washed over Elara.
Then her aunt added, “But… remind me again. What was your name?”
The relief shattered.
“Elara,” she whispered. “It’s Elara.”
Her aunt smiled apologetically. “Right. Elara. I don’t know why it slipped my mind.”
But Elara knew.
It hadn’t slipped.
It was being erased.
---
That night, Elara received another message.
**Unknown:**
*By tomorrow, most people won’t remember your face.*
Her hands trembled as she typed.
**Elara:** *Why is this happening to me?*
The reply came slowly.
**Unknown:**
*Because you were never supposed to exist.*
Elara stared at the words until they burned into her mind.
The lights in her room flickered.
And in the silence, one question echoed louder than any scream:
*If she was never supposed to exist—then who was she really?*
---
### 🌑 End of episode 2
- Writer
