Outsider : Classroom Of The Elite

After-Epilogue

With a soft click, I closed the door behind me. As soon as I entered, my room greeted me with its familiar scent. Two weeks wasn't that long of a period, if I think about it. Yet it felt as though I'd been away for years.

I dropped my bag on the table and collapsed onto the bed. An overwhelming sense of comfort and warmth quickly took over.

"Missed you too, buddy." I muttered to the mattress while stretching my arms up and down, almost like making a snow angel.

But the moment didn't last.

'Drawer Number Two'

The bus driver's words crept back into my mind. A simple, offhand remark. It could have been nothing, a meaningless phrase muttered by an 'overly friendly' old man. Yet, the moment he'd said it, something deep inside me had stirred. The way he'd looked at me, felt odd. That knowing smile didn't feel random.

Instinctively, my eyes were drawn to the nightstand by the bed.

It looked the same as I'd left it... or did it?

"......."

Something felt off. The drawer was perfectly shut. It was seamlessly aligned with the frame. On the outside, it would seem completely normal.

But I remembered leaving the drawers slightly ajar before the trip. It wasn't out of rush, or anything... It was a habit. I, for sure, wasn't meticulous enough to have left it like this.

'To think someone might've gone through my stuff in this room.'

I pushed myself up from the bed, and leaned forward to pull the drawer open.

Notes, a knife, sleeping meds, prescription papers, bandages... A letter?

Inside, everything was as it should be. My belongings were exactly where I'd left them, untouched and undisturbed. All, except for an extra item there... The letter.

It was neatly folded, as though it had been placed there with care. My name was written on the front in immaculate handwriting. The strokes were fluid and elegant and written in cursive English.

Levent.... Bayrakter.

"......"

The sight of my name... my 'Real' name, made my throat tighten.

For a moment, I simply stared at the letter, unwilling to touch it. My instincts screamed at me to leave it alone. But curiosity... or something stronger, overpowered my sense of hesitation. Slowly, I picked it up and unfolded it.

What was written in the body sent chills down my spine...

[ To the Outsider,

The choices you made were... very interesting. And you've done well to adapt and improvise. But let's be honest, some doors cannot remain closed forever. There's a reason why you were sent here. And it's about time you know it. You've seen the signs, haven't you? Keep going, but tread carefully. The truth waits for no one.

Be careful. I will personally see you soon. ]

There was no signature.

I read the words over and over again, hoping to find clarity. But the meaning only became heavier with each repetition.

Someone... that "bus driver" or whoever his real identity was, knew who I really am, or... what I used to be.

The paper trembled in my hand. I folded it carefully, placed it back in the drawer, and slid it shut. My head fell back against the soft pillow. But the unease wouldn't leave me.