Zara
The day had started off warm, bright, and full of late-spring calm—the kind of peaceful afternoon I usually cherished. I sat alone on a bench under an elm tree in the university courtyard, one hand resting over the curve of my stomach.
But something shifted.
It started with a chill. Not from the wind, but from something deeper—an ache beneath my skin. A strange sensation rippled through the air like static. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The sun dimmed.
I looked up. Clouds—dark, heavy, and rolling in far too quickly—began to stretch across the sky like a bruise spreading through blue. It was unnatural. A stillness fell over the courtyard. Conversations faded. Laughter died down. Even the birds went quiet.
I felt it in my bones.
Something is wrong.
Instincti
