FROZEN BETWEEN WORLDS

MARKET WHISPER'S "I know your boyfriend." Abeni stopped midstep. The market noise faded too fast, like someone had pressed their palm over her ears. The voice came from behind her—close enough to feel intentional. Close enough to feel wrong. Two girls stood there. They didn’t look strange at first. Same age range. Same kind of clothes she saw every day. But they were too still, as if the chaos of the market didn’t belong to them. Their eyes were focused only on her. “My boyfriend?” Abeni repeated. The tallest girl stepped forward. “Yes.” Abeni frowned. “You’ve made a mistake.” The girl’s gaze flicked briefly to Abeni’s chest, then back to her eyes. "We don't make mistakes. We know him." She said. "Julius then." Abeni said, testing it. Abeni frowned. That teasing nickname Julius calls her all the time, calling her his girlfriend just to annoy her. She swallowed. The girls brow lifted slightly. "Really?" " No, sorry, Ziyan." "No. That's a guy you crush on in school." Abeni's eyes popped open. "How did you know?" The second girl laughed softly. It wasn't mocking. It sounded... amused. " We know everything. Say the real one. " I don't have a boyfriend." Abeni's pulse spiked. The tall girl smiled faintly. " He hasn't given you his name yet. You belong to him." She said. " Whether you know it or not. " Abeni stepped back. " Look, I don't know what game this is, but I don't have time —” “For what?” The girl’s lips curved faintly. “For him?.” Abeni should have walked away. She knew that. She felt it in the same place where instincts lived—deep and insistent. But something else tugged at her too. Curiosity, sharp and reckless. Always walking toward trouble. She glanced back toward the shoe stall where her sister was arguing with the seller over price. Her sister called her name from the stall. Abeni raised a hand without turning. “I’ll be right back,” she said then returned her gaze to the girls. They hadn’t moved. The tallest one—dark-skinned, braided hair pulled back tightly—stepped forward. She followed the girls. At first, nothing felt strange. They moved through the market, weaving past familiar faces and voices. Abeni focused on memorizing landmarks—the woman selling tomatoes, the cracked blue wall, the sound of a radio playing somewhere behind her. Then the air changed. The sounds dulled, like cotton pressed into her ears. The sky above dimmed—not darker, just… muted. Abeni slowed. “Where are we going?” she asked. The girls didn’t answer. Her heart began to race. She turned around. The market was gone. She couldn't see her sister too. In its place stood a narrow path leading into a town she had never seen. The buildings were older, their shapes wrong in subtle ways, as if they had been remembered incorrectly. The colors shimmered when she looked at them too long. “This isn’t funny,” Abeni said. The tallest girl finally faced her. “You see it now.” “See what?” The ground trembled. Abeni gasped as they stepped into a clearing—and her breath caught in her throat. At the center stood a massive tree, its roots submerged in a small pond. The water moved continuously, flowing in a circle with no visible source and no end. The surface rippled unnaturally, as though breathing. Then something broke through. A head surfaced. Just for a second. "Human. " Abeni screamed. The sound echoed too long, bending in the air before snapping back into silence. The girls turned to her, their expressions unreadable. “No,” Abeni whispered. “No, no, no—” The head rose again. A boy pulled himself halfway out of the water, gasping like his lungs had been burning for centuries. He looked young. Eighteen, maybe twenty. Dark skin gleaming with water. Broad shoulders. Lean muscle tense with pain. He was shaking. And he was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at. The boy dragged in a sharp breath, pain etched across his face. His hair—thick, coiled, an untamed afro—clung to his forehead. His body was lean, defined, muscle etched as if still forming. He was beautiful. And he was suffering. “Go back,” a voice commanded. Abeni spun. An old man stood waist-deep in the pond, though his face was smooth, unlined. Young and old at once. His eyes were empty of mercy. “You do not belong here,” he said, chanting words Abeni didn’t understand. “You are dead.” The boy shook his head violently. “I didn’t finish,” he cried. “They lied. I didn’t—” “Silence.” The incantation intensified. The water glowed faintly beneath them. The boy screamed, clutching his chest. “Stop!” Abeni shouted. “You’re killing him!” The man’s eyes snapped to her. Shock flickered across his face. “You,” he said slowly. “You can see.” The boy looked at her. Their eyes met. And he whispered. "Help me." Something slammed into Abeni’s chest like recognition. A canoe emerged from the water beside him, smooth and dark, as if carved from shadow. A paddle followed. “No!” the boy shouted. “Please—” The chant rose. His body moved against his will. He stumbled into the canoe, shaking, tears cutting paths down his face. He looked back at her once—desperate, aching. Abeni ran forward. “Wait!” she cried. The canoe drifted backward, pulled by unseen force. The boy’s gaze stayed locked on hers until distance swallowed him, until water and mist erased him completely. Gone. Abeni stood frozen. Then the ground shook again. “Run,” one of the girls whispered urgently. Abeni didn’t ask why. She ran. Her lungs burned as she tore through unfamiliar streets, feet pounding against stone. The town stretched impossibly, twisting in on itself. She could hear footsteps behind her—heavy, deliberate. "They’re coming for me." She pushed harder, heart slamming against her ribs. When she dared to glance back, her stomach dropped. The girls were behind her. Being chased. Dark shapes closed in around them, grabbing, dragging. One screamed. Another reached for Abeni— The town stretched endlessly as she fled, no end her lungs screaming. It was an illusion. Heavy footsteps could still be heard thundering behind her—measured, deliberate. "They’re coming for me." She glanced back. The girls were being dragged away by shadows, hands clawing at them, silencing their screams. One reached toward Abeni— Then everything collapsed. Abeni jolted upright in bed. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. Sweat soaked her skin. Her room was dark, quiet, familiar. A dream. She tried to laugh it off. Tried to call her sister’s name. No sound came out. Her throat locked in panic. Abeni clutched her chest—and froze. Her palm was wet. Cold. The room smelled faintly of water. And carved faintly into her skin was a symbol she had seen glowing beneath the pond. A whisper brushed her ear—not in her head, but in the room with her. “You don’t get to forget me. Please help me.”