You Were Always There

In the Dark, She Waits

Ariel sat frozen on the couch, her body rigid as the faint breath against her neck sent shivers down her spine. She didn't dare move, her mind spinning through possibilities. The television screen had gone dark, but its faint hum filled the room, blending with the sound of her own rapid breathing.

It's not real, she thought, clutching the edges of the couch with trembling fingers. It's not real.

She tried to convince herself, but the sensation lingered warm and close, like someone was standing just behind her. The silence in the room grew heavier, pressing down on her like a weight she couldn't lift.

Her eyes darted to the reflection on the black television screen. She could see herself sitting there, pale and trembling, but nothing else. No shadow, no figure. Just her.

Slowly, she turned her head, her neck stiff and her heart pounding. The room was empty. The faint light from the lamp illuminated the corners, casting harmless shadows against the walls. She let out a shaky breath, the tension in her chest loosening slightly.

But the relief didn't last.

Behind her, the television flickered back to life with a low buzz. Ariel whipped around, her heart leaping into her throat. The screen displayed static at first, then a black-and-white image began to take shape. It was her apartment again, her living room. The view was angled from above, as though a camera were mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

She stared at the screen, her breath catching as the image zoomed in slowly. It focused on the couch, on her. She watched herself in real-time, sitting in the exact position she was now. Her reflection on the television didn't lag this time; it moved perfectly in sync with her, capturing every subtle shift, every tremble.

Then, just behind her reflection, the shadow appeared.

It was faint at first, barely more than a smudge against the background. But as she stared, it grew clearer, sharper. A figure emerged from the darkness, stepping closer to where she sat on the couch. Ariel's blood turned cold as she watched it reach out, its hand moving toward her shoulder.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. The figure leaned in, its face obscured, and then it looked directly at the camera.

The television screen went black.

The silence in the room was deafening. Ariel sat frozen, her body trembling violently. Her mind screamed at her to run, to do something, but she couldn't move. The air in the room felt different now, thicker, heavier. The faint scent of paint filled her nose, sharp and acrid, like it had in the motel.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. The motel. The apartment. They feel the same.

Her breath hitched as her gaze darted to the corners of the room, half-expecting to see the walls peel away, revealing something beneath. But they didn't. The room stayed intact, trapping her within its oppressive stillness.

The lamp flickered once, casting long shadows against the walls. Then came the sound, a low creak, like a floorboard bending under weight. It came from behind her.

Ariel shot to her feet, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over the coffee table. She clutched her chest, her heart hammering as she turned to face the source of the sound. There was nothing there. The room was empty.

But she knew better now.

She grabbed her phone from the table, her hands shaking as she scrolled through her recent messages. The texts from the unknown number were still there, mocking her.

It's time to come home.

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the words. She backed away from the couch, her breaths coming faster. The walls seemed closer than they had been a moment ago, the room shrinking around her. The static hum from the television grew louder, grating against her ears like a cruel reminder that she wasn't alone.

She turned and bolted for the door, her feet unsteady beneath her. The deadbolt stuck as she fumbled with it, her palms slick with sweat. When it finally gave way, she yanked the door open and stumbled into the hallway.

The air outside her apartment was colder, heavier. The familiar dim light of the hallway seemed to buzz louder than usual, like an insect trapped inside her skull. She glanced back at her door, half-expecting to see the shadow from the television standing in the doorway.

Instead, she saw her bag.

It was sitting by the door, untouched. Her stomach dropped as she stared at it, her mind reeling. The bag was packed, exactly as she had left it. She remembered grabbing it. She remembered taking it to the motel. She remembered using the charger inside it, changing into the clothes she'd stuffed into its folds. But there it was, the zipper still closed, the contents untouched.

She stepped closer, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her fingers trembled as she unzipped the bag, revealing the neatly folded clothes and her unused charger, exactly as she had left them.

Her legs gave out, and she sank to the floor, the weight of the realization crashing over her. She hadn't left. She'd never left. The motel, the drive, the green bedspread, it was all in her head.

But then how could she explain the texts? The television? The figure?

Her phone buzzed again in her hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her pulse pounding in her ears.

You were never supposed to leave.

Her hands trembled as she stared at the message. Tears blurred her vision, her mind screaming for answers that wouldn't come. The hall felt colder now, darker. Her apartment door stood wide open behind her, the shadows within beckoning her back inside.

For the first time, Ariel wasn't sure if she was running from something or toward it.