The sound of his breathing clawed through the silence of the room.
Ethan's eyes snapped open, chest heaving like he'd sprinted through a nightmare.
Something was wrong.
His body was coiled tight, muscles wired. His mind—reeling.
This wasn't a normal wake-up. This was…
Wrong.
The air felt thinner. The shadows heavier.
It was like… he'd lost something.
Not a thing. A piece.
A piece of his life, eroding like sand through his fingers.
He shut his eyes for a heartbeat, forcing his breathing to steady. The dream's memories clung to his skull—crystal-clear, unshakable.
Iria stood there, her serene smile cutting through the haze.
"Hope you don't forget me."
The words dug into his brain like thorns—sharp, relentless.
Ethan lurched upright in bed, dragging a hand down his face.
None of this should've gutted him this hard.
Just a dream.
Just a dream… right?
But then… why did his chest feel so hollow?
He grabbed his phone, unlocking it out of habit. The screen's glow cut through the dark room, casting jagged shadows on the ceiling. He stared at the date for a long moment, like he expected to find something… off.
But everything looked… normal.
Except he didn't feel normal.
The rest of the morning blurred by—same routine, same motions.
But his hands shook as he scrolled—thumb tapping mindlessly through apps that suddenly felt… alien.
In the back of his skull, a voice hissed:
You're missing something.
But what?
By noon, the hollowness had spread—a rot gnawing at his ribs.
He dressed. Downstairs, the family breakfast hummed with familiar voices.
The coffee burned her tongue. Bitter. Sharp.
Crack.
A thought split his skull. If I keep dreaming... what else gets erased? His knuckles whitened around the mug.
He'd swallowed every twisted change so far. The vanished childhood photo. The rearranged street signs. Swallowed until her guts twisted.
But that dream...
Iria's words...
They clawed at his throat now.
Couldn't pretend anymore.
The world glitched. Warped. Static bleeding through reality's edges.
Ethan's sneakers hit the stairs—thud-thud-thud—before the door clicked shut. Safety?
The desk chair groaned as he collapsed into it.
Chest-crushing. Like concrete blocks stacked over his sternum. Breathe.
Phone blazing in his palm. Muscle memory punched the passcode. Gallery app. Jittery scroll through digital ghosts:
But he couldn't find anything.
The memories were there, in his mind, vivid.
He could remember the days they'd hung out together, the late-night conversations, the way she'd laugh when he told her something silly.
He could remember the exact day they'd taken their first photo together.
He could remember the details of the background, the clothes they were wearing…
But the photo didn't exist.
Not in his gallery. Not in her tagged posts.
Like the camera shutter had never clicked.
Goosebumps pricked his arms.
Stomach churning, he stabbed the Instagram icon.
Search bar. Her @. His finger hovered—a tremor he couldn't control.
Still there.
Mutuals.
But her profile—
Photos warped into mirror-world versions.
Posts gutted.
Digital bleach.
No comments under her selfies. DMs? Archived into static.
Thumb carving trenches in the screen. Liked posts. Story replies. Nothing.
Worst part?
Didn't have her number.
He attacked the messaging app. Name typed—thumb-jabs on glass.
Nothing.
No saved chats. No emoji corpses.
Their relationship? Poof.
Only the memories—
If those faded…
Ethan's knuckles whitened around the phone.
The screen quivered in his grip—panic mirrored in glass.
Can't be.
Can't be.
But was.
The horror wasn't just their erased history.
The real nightmare? The world never noticed she'd existed.
Wouldn't swallow this. Needed proof.
Cornered Daniel and Andrés after third period. Casual voice. Casual lie.
"Hey… you guys remember me dating Sophie?"
Daniel snorted. "You two? Never even spoke, right?"
Ice down his spine.
Andrés shrugged. "Yeah, you were friends. That's it." Beat. "She's younger anyway. Doubt anything happened."
World stuttered.
Gut-punched. Silence.
"Yeah… guess so." Plastic smile. Cracked at the edges.
If this reality never had them…
Their entire history—
Erased.
The truth rotted in his gut.
Not a glitch.
Not a coincidence.
World's rewriting its code.
That night, textbooks blurred. Pacing. Sitting. Elbows digging into knees.
Breath sawing through clenched teeth.
"If this keeps up..."
Who's next on the chopping block?
First, Iria flickered.
Now, his past with Sophie—rewriting history.
What's next?
What chunk of his life gets deleted before he can scream stop?
Buzz.
Ethan's head snapped up. Phone glowing.
One notification.