MAYBE I IMAGINED IT
1389 Words
Lina didn’t sleep.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her phone clutched loosely in her hand long after the call had ended.
Every few seconds, her eyes would flick toward the corner of the room.
The same spot.
The exact same spot where he had been standing.
Nothing.
Just empty space.
Still… the feeling hadn’t left.
That quiet, creeping awareness.
Like something had changed—and wasn’t changing back.
“It wasn’t real,” she whispered into the darkness.
Her voice sounded small. Unconvincing.
It had to be stress.
Lack of sleep.
Her brain trying to fill silence with something… anything.
People hallucinate under pressure, right?
That was normal.
That was explainable.
Her grip tightened slightly around her phone.
“Yeah,” she muttered, turning onto her side. “That’s all it is.”
She closed her eyes.
Forced herself to breathe slowly.
In.
Out.
In—
Her eyes snapped open.
For a second, she didn’t know why.
Then she felt it.
That same shift in the air.
The same presence.
Lina’s body went still.
Don’t turn around.
The thought came back again—stronger this time.
Her heart began to pound.
Don’t turn around.
Slowly… slowly…
She turned anyway.
He was there.
Closer this time.
Not across the room.
Not by the wall.
Right beside her bed.
Lina jerked back with a sharp gasp, nearly dropping her phone.
“What—!”
Her voice caught in her throat.
He didn’t react.
Didn’t move.
Just stood there, looking down at her like he’d been waiting.
“You woke up,” he said quietly.
Like that was the most normal thing in the world.
Lina scrambled backward on the bed until her back hit the wall.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, no—this isn’t real. You’re not real.”
His expression didn’t change.
“If I wasn’t real,” he said calmly, “you wouldn’t be this scared.”
Her breath came out uneven.
Her chest rising and falling too fast.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” she shot back, even though her voice trembled. “People hallucinate things that feel real all the time.”
“Do they?” he asked softly.
The way he said it made her hesitate.
Just for a second.
And he noticed.
Of course he did.
“You called someone,” he continued. “That’s why I had to leave.”
Her stomach dropped.
So he remembered.
It hadn’t reset.
It hadn’t disappeared.
“You didn’t ‘have’ to do anything,” she said, trying to steady her voice. “You just… vanished.”
“Yes.”
He said it like that explained everything.
Like she should understand.
“Why?” she demanded.
He tilted his head slightly, watching her the same way he had before.
“Because you weren’t alone anymore.”
Silence fell between them.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Lina swallowed.
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It will,” he said.
That answer didn’t help.
If anything, it made things worse.
Her fingers tightened around her phone again.
Think.
Think.
There had to be a way to prove this.
To prove he wasn’t real.
Or—
Or prove that he was.
Lina swallowed, her fingers tightening around her phone.
“Then what are you?” she asked.
The question came out quieter than she expected.
But it felt… right.
More honest than anything else she had said.
Because that was the only thing that mattered.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Just watched her.
Like he was deciding how much to say.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said instead.
Her stomach dropped.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.”
His voice didn’t change.
Didn’t waver.
And somehow, that made it worse.
“Then answer me,” she pressed, her heart beginning to race again. “What are you?”
A small pause.
Then—
“Someone who knows you.”
Her chest tightened.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.”
If you know me so well ...
“tell me something about me. Something I’ve never told anyone.”
There.
That should be impossible.
There was no way he could know anything personal.
No way he could—
“You still check your phone at night,” he said.
Her breath hitched.
Even though there’s no one you’re actually waiting for.”
The words landed softly.
But they hit hard.
Lina’s fingers tightened involuntarily around the device in her hand.
“That’s not—” she started, but the words felt weak.
Unsteady.
Because it was true.
Painfully true.
She opened her mouth to argue again, but he spoke first.
“You keep conversations short,” he continued. “Not because you don’t care… but because you don’t know what to say after a while.”
Her throat went dry.
“Stop.”
“You pretend you like being alone,” he said quietly, stepping just a little closer, “but you don’t.”
“Stop it.”
Her voice came out sharper now.
But her heart was racing for a different reason.
Not just fear.
Something else.
Something deeper.
“You hate silence,” he added, softer this time. “You just hate being misunderstood more.”
“Stop!”
The word came out louder than she intended.
The room fell silent again.
Lina’s chest rose and fell quickly as she stared at him.
How did he know that?
How could he possibly—
“I told you,” he said gently. “I know you.”
No.
No, he didn’t.
He couldn’t.
She would remember.
Wouldn’t she?
Her thoughts spiraled, searching for something—anything—that made sense.
“You don’t know me,” she said, her voice quieter now, less certain. “You can’t.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“I know enough.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
If anything, it was worse.
Her pulse thudded in her ears as a new thought crept in.
One she didn’t want to think about.
But couldn’t ignore.
“If you know me so well…” she said slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly, “then tell me something else.”
He didn’t speak.
Just waited.
“Tell me why you’re here.”
Silence.
For a second, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
Then—
“To keep you safe.”
Her breath caught.
Safe?
From what?
The word lingered in the air between them.
Unsettling.
Incomplete.
“Safe from what?” she asked.
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t look away.
Just held her gaze.
And that silence—
That hesitation—
It said more than any answer could have.
Lina’s grip on her phone tightened again.
A strange mix of fear and curiosity twisting inside her chest.
Because if he was telling the truth…
Then something out there was dangerous.
Something she didn’t know about.
Something—
Her phone suddenly buzzed in her hand.
Lina flinched, her eyes dropping to the screen.
An incoming call.
Unknown number.
She frowned slightly.
At this hour?
Slowly, she looked back up at him.
And felt her stomach drop.
He was already watching the phone.
His expression… different this time.
Less calm.
More—
Serious.
“Don’t answer that,” he said.
Her heart skipped.
“What?”
“Don’t answer it,” he repeated, his voice firmer now.
The phone kept ringing.
Loud.
Persistent.
Lina hesitated.
Her thumb hovering over the screen.
“It’s just a call,” she said, though her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be.
“It’s not just a call.”
Something in the way he said it made her pause.
Really pause.
“Then what is it?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
And that silence—
That hesitation again—
Made her chest tighten.
The phone kept ringing.
Her thumb hovered.
Her pulse raced.
And then—
She looked back up at him.
“Why shouldn’t I answer it?” she asked.
His eyes locked onto hers.
And for the first time since she’d seen him—
There was something close to urgency in them.
Because whatever answer he was about to give…
It wasn’t going to make her feel any safer.
What would you do… answer the call, or listen to him?
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