My name is Ezra. ......... You may be wondering why you can't read my last name. Well, the truth is—I don't even remember it, and neither does anyone else. In fact, my entire life seems nonexistent at this point.
It started around my first year of middle school. I came late to class one day and expected the teacher to reprimand or yell at me, but it was like he didn't even notice me. I brushed this off as him not wanting to deal with me at the time, so I quietly went to my seat beside one of my friends. His name was......I tried speaking to him multiple times, but he didn't respond. Again, I simply thought he was just a bit too focused on what the teacher was saying.
After class ended, I walked up to him and said his name….....,...,.....over and over again. But again, he didn't respond—until I tapped him on the shoulder. Then, for the first time that day, he actually looked at me and said, "Who are you?" My friend of over ten years simply didn't remember me.
After that ordeal, I quietly walked home. On the way, I decided to stop at a convenience store to buy a drink. When I came up to the counter, it was the same thing—it was like the cashier didn't even see me standing in front of him. Only when I touched him did he react. That encounter finally made me realize something was wrong. At first, I thought my best friend's reaction was just a joke or some kind of prank, but the fact that no one else at school—and even a man I'd never met before didn't seem to notice me, made me truly afraid.
I rushed home faster than I ever had before, hoping to see my mom hoping that she would still see me and remember me. I hurriedly opened the front door and ran to the living room, since she's always there when I get back from school. And when I entered, I was relieved because as usual, she said, "Welcome home." Tears burst from my eyes as the one person in the world I didn't want to forget me still remembered.
She walked up to me and asked why I was crying. I carefully explained what I had experienced. She told me not to worry about it. I took her word for it and tried to live the rest of the day as normally as I could.
Several days after the "incident," no one in my class still remembered me. When the teacher took roll call, I had to shout at the top of my lungs before he even noticed me. This continued every day I would shout just to be acknowledged. My friend the one who sat next to me still didn't remember who I was.
At the time, I was a bit content since the most important person in my life, my mother, still remembered me. I continued like that throughout the rest of my stay in middle school.
On the first day of high school, the same thing happened. Barely anyone in class noticed me. I only managed to get into the school because my mom knew the principal. For three years in middle school, I had experienced being invisible. No one acknowledged me. No one looked my way. But by then, I had already gotten used to it.
After that first day of high school, I walked home shouting at the top of my lungs, hoping someone would hear me—just like I had done in middle school. I got home and opened the front door, expecting to see my mom greet me with a "Welcome back."
But what I saw was something completely out of this world.
It was me. At least, I think it was medead standing there. I couldn't really tell because it was completely black, but it was shaped like me. Before I could run or hide from the mysterious black figure, I fell to the ground. I saw a red liquid quickly spreading across the floor.
I mustered the strength to turn around and look at the figure—and before I knew it, I was in my room.
It was the same day: 12th of September, 2022. I was preparing for my first day of high school again, hoping that things would turn out differently than they did in middle school. But something was off about this "12th of September, 2022."
I went downstairs to see my mom... but she was lying on the ground. Blood filled the entire floor.
Yes... she was dead.