I stood in the middle of the empty street, my heart thudding in my chest, the air thick with unease. Every part of me screamed that I wasn’t alone, that something—someone—was watching me. But when I turned around, all I saw was the familiar suburban calm. Houses lined the street, their windows closed, lawns neatly trimmed, the occasional dog barking somewhere in the distance. Nothing was out of place, and yet, everything felt wrong.
I looked down at my hands, the tremor barely visible but still there. Why did I still feel like I was running from something? Why did my mind keep looping back to those damn whispers from the dream? The sensation of being chased, the invisible hand tugging me toward an unknown danger—none of it made sense.
I took a step forward, the sound of my sneakers slapp
