Echoes of you

Between Worlds

Sophie stood at the edge of the subway platform, her hands wrapped tightly around the straps of her bag. The buzz of the station hummed around her, but she barely noticed it, her mind still tangled in the memory of that voice.

"I need you."

The words hadn't left her since last night. They lingered in the corners of her mind, a ghostly echo that sent shivers down her spine every time she thought about them. She had barely slept, twisting and turning in bed, waiting for the voice to return—but it didn't.

The emotions, though, hadn't stopped. They came in waves, rolling over her in confusing, overwhelming bursts. One moment she'd feel fine, grounded in the present, and the next, sadness would flood her out of nowhere, a heavy ache pressing against her chest like an invisible hand.

It wasn't just any sadness. It was sharp, all-consuming—the kind that made it hard to breathe. And the strange thing was, it didn't feel like it belonged to her. It was as if someone else was pulling her under, dragging her down into the depths of their own sorrow.

"I need you."

Sophie shuddered, blinking hard against the fluorescent lights overhead. What was happening to her? She had always been imaginative, sure, but this was something else. This was real, and she had no idea how to explain it.

The roar of an approaching train snapped her out of her thoughts. She stepped back from the platform edge, the rush of wind pulling at her hair. She wasn't even sure where she was headed. Work, she told herself. She'd thrown herself into work today, hoping it would drown out the strange thoughts in her head. But it didn't feel like enough.

As the train screeched to a halt and the doors slid open, Sophie stepped inside, finding a spot by the window. She stared out at the blur of passing tunnels, her reflection faint in the glass.

"Who are you?" she whispered under her breath, the question barely audible over the sound of the train.

There was no answer, of course. There never was. But for some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was listening. Watching. Waiting.

She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her forehead against the cool window. She was just stressed. Tired, maybe. It had to be some kind of hallucination—too much late-night work, too little sleep, and her overactive imagination filling in the blanks. The voice, the emotions, the pull she felt toward something she couldn't even name—it had to be all in her head.

But then, just as the thought formed, a rush of warmth bloomed in her chest.

It was subtle at first—a soft hum beneath her skin, like the gentle thrum of a heartbeat. But it grew, pulsing stronger, until it filled her entire body. And with it came a sense of comfort—an odd, unfamiliar comfort, like someone was wrapping their arms around her from the inside out.

It was so real, so vivid, that for a second Sophie almost felt herself leaning into it, her body reacting instinctively, craving the closeness of that presence.

"I'm here."

Her eyes flew open.

The train rattled on, passengers seated around her with their heads buried in phones, oblivious to the weight of what she had just felt.

It wasn't just a whisper. It was a presence—a real presence, inside her mind, touching something deep and buried in her soul. She could feel it—feel him as if he were right there beside her, even though no one else could see it.

Her breath hitched, panic fluttering in her chest. She wasn't crazy. There was something happening, something that went beyond the logical or explainable. Someone was reaching out to her—someone who wasn't in this world and who wasn't going to stop until she listened.

But what did they want?

The train slowed as it reached her stop, and Sophie grabbed her bag, stumbling out of the car and onto the platform. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, spinning wildly as she made her way up the steps and into the sunlight.

By the time she reached the sidewalk, her head was pounding. The light was too bright, the noise of the city too loud, grating against her nerves. She pushed through the crowd, barely paying attention to where she was going, until she found herself standing in front of the small, familiar café a few blocks from her apartment.

Aiden was sitting outside, his laptop open in front of him, coffee cup in hand. He glanced up as she approached, grinning when he saw her.

"There you are. I thought you were going to bail on me again," he said, closing the laptop and leaning back in his chair. "What happened to'something 'that came up'?"

Sophie forced a smile, sitting across from him. "Sorry, I just... needed a break from everything."

"You've been needing a lot of breaks lately," Aiden said, giving her a concerned look. "You alright? You've been kind of... distant."

"I'm fine," she lied, even though her heart was still racing, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Aiden raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She laughed, the sound strained. "Maybe I have."

"Seriously, Soph." Aiden leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. "Is something going on? You can tell me."

Sophie hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She didn't want to tell Aiden. He'd think she was losing her mind. But the words were bubbling up in her throat, desperate to spill out. Maybe if she said it aloud, it would make more sense.

"It's nothing," she said finally, shaking her head. "Just... weird dreams, I guess."

Aiden studied her for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but he didn't push. "Alright. But if you ever need to talk, you know I'm here, right?"

"I know." She gave him a grateful smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. Aiden meant well, but he couldn't help her with this. No one could.

As Aiden launched into a story about work, Sophie tried to focus, nodding and smiling in the right places. But her mind kept drifting back to the feeling from earlier—the warmth, the presence, the undeniable sense that she wasn't alone.

That voice... it was real. She could feel it.

"I'm here."

Whoever he was, he wasn't going away. And somehow, Sophie knew—this was only the beginning.