Awakened fury

Shadows at the Gate

I clutch my books tighter, heart still racing from the glimpse of the stranger. The figure is gone now, swallowed by the crowd at the school gate, but the unease lingers, cold and prickling at my skin.

I step through the gates, trying to shake it off. Students chatter and laugh, the noise washing over me like waves I don’t belong in. Elisha appears at my side again, her smirk sharper than ever.

“Well, look who’s still breathing,” she sneers. “You’re lucky no one noticed you staring at that weird shadow back there. Thought you’d run away crying, didn’t you?”

I force a tight-lipped smile and keep walking, pretending her words don’t sting. My stomach twists, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction. One step, one breath, one day at a time.

The bell rings, slicing through the morning chatter. Students scatter toward their classes. I head to my first classroom, the mysterious feeling following me like a shadow. I can’t tell if it’s fear, curiosity, or both.

During class, I glance at the doorway. The figure isn’t there—or maybe I just convince myself they’re not. My mind drifts, remembering my parents, their voices in the quiet moments before life went wrong. I promise myself I won’t let their absence define me. Not today. Not ever.

The day drags on. Every glance from Elisha feels like a dagger, every whisper in the hall echoes Cassandra’s words at home. And yet, I notice something I’ve never dared to before: small flickers of courage inside me. A plan forming, tiny and fragile, like a candle in the dark.

As the last class ends, I head for the schoolyard, hoping for a quiet moment before heading home. That’s when I see it—a small piece of paper pinned to the school gate with a single word written in shaky handwriting:

“Watch.”

My stomach twists. My fingers shake as I pick it up. No signature. No explanation. Just the word.

A cold wind blows through the yard, and I feel eyes on me again, though I see no one. My heart hammers, but I don’t run. Not yet. Something tells me this isn’t random. Someone wants me to notice. Someone is waiting.

And I realize, with a chill I can’t shake: today is only the beginning.