coin day
915 Words
i spent the rest of the day treating my pocket like it contained a bomb.
a coin.
tomorrow.
it sounded stupid. like a scavenger hunt made by someone bored. but after the stairs, after the photo that couldn’t be deleted, “stupid” stopped meaning “safe.”
i checked my pockets three times on the way home even though tomorrow wasn’t even here yet. i don’t know why. maybe i was already training myself to follow orders.
that thought pissed me off enough to make my jaw hurt.
at night, i lined up coins on my desk like i was doing some kind of ritual.
one thousand rupiah. five hundred. a random foreign coin i’d kept because it looked cool. i stared at them, trying to guess what mattered. weight? size? material? value?
if this “system” listened to words but not pixels… did it read intent too?
i opened my notes app and typed:
coin tomorrow: bring one.
then i deleted it.
words. listening. i wasn’t going to be the i***t who handed the system a transcript.
i ended up choosing the simplest coin i had. just a normal one. not lucky, not rare, not dramatic.
if the rules were trying to bait me, i wasn’t going to give them style points.
i slid it into my wallet. then took it out. then put it into my pocket. then moved it to the little inner pocket of my bag. then moved it back to my pocket again.
by 11 p.m., i hated myself.
i fell asleep with my hand on my pocket like i could physically guard a piece of metal from getting stolen by reality.
—
the next day didn’t feel like a next day. it felt like a continuation.
i woke up before my alarm. checked my phone. nothing new, as expected. the chat was quiet. her side still blank, like she’d never existed.
the only thing that existed was the schedule my body had started memorizing.
11:07.
i didn’t want to think about it, so i thought about the coin instead. i pressed it through my pocket with my thumb as i walked to school. cold, round, real.
a part of me hoped this rule was dumb. that i’d show up with a coin and nothing would happen and i’d be able to laugh at myself later.
but i knew better now.
by 10:50, my focus was gone. i kept looking at the corner of my screen even when my phone wasn’t out. i kept hearing phantom vibrations that weren’t there.
at 11:06, my phone buzzed for real.
one pulse.
controlled.
my stomach dropped, even though i’d been waiting.
i unlocked it.
the chat opened itself.
the keyboard vanished.
a timer appeared.
00:59
my heartbeat matched it, too fast.
00:44
00:43
00:42
i didn’t move. i couldn’t. i was in the middle of the hallway, pretending to look at a poster like i wasn’t about to follow invisible instructions again.
00:15
00:14
00:13
the chat blinked.
her message appeared.
her: do you have it.
i swallowed.
me: yes.
seen.
her: show me without words.
my hand tightened on my phone.
without words.
i understood instantly and hated that i understood. the system listened to words. so she was asking for proof in a way it couldn’t overhear.
i opened my camera.
rear camera this time.
i angled it down and took a photo of my palm holding the coin, the ridges of my fingerprints and the dull shine of metal.
i didn’t type anything. i didn’t caption it.
i just saved it.
my phone buzzed again.
her: good. now go to the same stairs. 10:12.
i froze.
me: it’s 11:07.
seen.
her: you’re learning. go anyway.
the timer at the bottom shrank, like the system was tightening the leash.
00:21
00:20
me: why do i need a coin.
seen.
her: to pick the second.
00:16
00:15
that sentence made my skin prickle.
pick the second.
rule 2.
don’t pick the first.
my brain tried to build a picture and failed.
me: what happens if i pick the first.
seen.
her: you don’t want to find out.
00:08
00:07
me: are you safe.
seen.
her: no. but i’m close.
00:03
00:02
me: what does “close” even mean.
seen.
her: stop asking. start moving.
00:01
the minute ended. the chat froze. her side went blank again.
and for the first time since this started, i felt the urge to throw my phone so hard it would shatter into a thousand pieces.
i didn’t.
i moved.
—
the stairs behind the library looked exactly the same as yesterday, which was almost insulting. moss. wet railing. chipped paint. a little patch of shadow that always felt deeper than it should.
i stopped at the bottom step.
my phone didn’t buzz. no countdown this time. no “don’t be late.”
just silence.
i stepped up anyway.
one.
two.
three.
third step.
i held the railing without looking up.
and waited.
nothing happened for five seconds.
then my phone vibrated once, softer than usual, like it was trying not to draw attention.
the camera app opened.
rear camera again.
it pointed at the steps above me.
the screen adjusted, brightened, focused on the empty stairwell.
then, like someone had layered a second reality on top of mine, two objects appeared on the step above the third.
two coins.
they weren’t in the real world.
not exactly.
they looked too sharp on camera,
- Writer
