Catharsis (A Darkromance Story)

Doubts

I get home, and the first thing I notice is that the door is unlocked. This shouldn't be possible; I always double-check to make sure it's locked before I leave. As I stand there, a sense of unease creeps in, adding to the already strange day. I cautiously step inside, my heart pounding, hoping that there's no one lurking within the house.

The thought of an intruder sends a shiver down my spine, but I push forward, needing to see if everything is alright.

I hesitate for a moment before stepping inside, my steps as silent as the possible intruder's might be.

My heart races as I move cautiously from room to room, but after a thorough search of the entire house, there's no sign of anyone having been here. It seems I must have left the door open myself, something I haven't done in ages. I exhale deeply, feeling the weight of today's strange events pressing down on me. Nothing about this day has felt right.

As exhaustion washes over me, my mind drifts back to that mysterious notebook. I head to my room, setting my bag on the floor, and begin searching for the book. Panic starts to rise when I realize it's not where I left it. Frantically, I check under the bed, inside drawers, and even behind furniture, but it's nowhere to be found.

The notebook, which had inexplicably appeared just hours ago, has now vanished just as mysteriously.

And now it’s raining outside... great, just what I needed to sink deeper into this funk. The gray, drizzly weather only adds to my gloom. But right now, all I can think about is that damn notebook. The more I try to make sense of it, the more it gnaws at me. Desperate for a break from my swirling thoughts, I head to the bathroom and let cold water run for a moment before splashing it on my face. The shock of the cold against my skin does little to wake me from this surreal day.

I keep hoping I'll snap out of this bizarre dream, but when I look up, the mirror reflects only my weary, disheveled self. I look like hell—dark circles under my eyes, hair a tangled mess. The sight of my own tired face only amplifies the feeling that everything is spiraling out of control.

"I need some sleep..." I say to myself before heading back to my room and crashing my head against the bed.

Once I'm finally on my bed, I close my eyes, but sleep is elusive. My mind races, unable to quiet down. I can't just brush this off and call it a day. I need to tell someone; I need answers. The mystery of the notebook and the unlocked door are too strange to ignore. Desperate for some explanation, I grab my laptop and start searching the internet for anything that might shed light on what’s happening.

Every search result, however, points to amnesia or mental health issues. Articles and forums suggest all sorts of conditions that could explain forgotten actions or misplaced objects. But I know I've never been diagnosed with any of these problems. My mind has always been clear, my memory sharp.

Frustration builds as I scroll through page after page of irrelevant information. I need to figure this out, but the answers seem just out of reach.

The rain continues to beat against the window, mirroring the turmoil inside me, as I struggle to find a way to make sense of the day's bizarre events.

The only person I could think of to talk to right now was Niko. Despite knowing he never replied before midnight, I decided to take my chances. I typed out a message, explaining what had happened in as few words as possible, hoping not to bore him with too many details. I recounted the strange appearance of the notebook, the unlocked door, and the sense of being watched. I knew Niko wasn't much of a talker, but I hoped this would catch his interest.

As I hit send, I couldn't help but feel a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The rain continued to patter against the window, a constant reminder of my restless thoughts.

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, the glow of the laptop screen casting a dim light around the room.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited for any sign of a response, hoping that maybe, just this once, Niko would break his usual pattern and reply before midnight.

With bated breath, I lie there in the dim light, the anticipation weighing heavy on my chest. Suddenly, amidst the gentle patter of rain, a notification sound breaks the silence. My heart skips a beat as I hear it, and I quickly snap out of my daze.

With a rush of excitement, I reach for my computer, my fingers trembling slightly as I open the message...