It was morning and the sunlight crawled across my wall like it was trying to wake me up without my consent. I opened my eyes, not because I wanted to, but because I had to. For me, that's how most days began.
I laid in my bed for a while, counting the cracks in the ceiling.
There were four cracks. There had always been four.
But today there were five.
No, wait. I blinked.
Still four.
Weird.
...
When I dragged myself out of bed Sun was already in the kitchen. Shirtless as always, leaning over the kitchen counter like he hadn't slept at all.
"You look like shit" he said without even turning around.
"Good morning to you too" I muttered while rubbing my eyes.
"Coffee?"
"Sure"
He poured me the coffee like usual. No smile. No conversation. Just routine.
We weren't the type of people to talk much in the mornings. Still, it was more than enough for me.
...
"Did you sleep alright?" he asked.
I nodded. Then shook my head. Then nodded again.
He frowned in confusion.
"I had one of those weird dreams" I said, while sipping the bitter coffee. "Or maybe it wasn't even a dream."
"Do you mean that déjà vu thing?"
"Yeah"
He shrugged. "Could be because of stress. Or maybe you're finally cracking."
"Thanks doctor"
"Have you started smoking?"
"No."
"You should. Might even things out for you."
I smiled at him, but it didn't reach my eyes.
...
In the bathroom I stared into the mirror. I was staring like my reflection had something to say.
It didn't
It was just the same face I had seen every day. I had slight dark bags under my eyes that looked older than they should. A pimple that refused to die on the left side of my jaw. My brown hair was a mess.
But I looked normal.
That was the worst part.
...
"You're not supposed to be here."
That sentence quickly crossed my mind without warning.
It was sharp. Sudden.
I grabbed the sink.
What the hell was that?
I hadn't actually thought it. It just appeared in my mind, like a voice that was planted in my brain that didn't belong to me.
And out of nowhere I felt a sharp turn in my stomach. It felt like reality had tilted by just a degree or two.
I looked back at the mirror.
It was still me.
I was still normal.
But why did it feel like my reflection staring back didn't know who I was?
...
Later that day at school, everything felt off. Not wrong, but just slightly wrong.
When I walked into class, and for just a second, it felt like the seats had been rearranged.
But they weren't.
I opened my locker and found a textbook that I was sure that I left at home.
Then it was gone.
I asked a classmate if we had any homework for the week. She gave me a look, like i'd already asked that.
"I just told you" she said.
"No you didn't."
She gave me a weird expression. Then she just turned around and shook her head.
...
When I got home from school, I was convinced I was going crazy.
I laid down on the floor of my room and stared at the ceiling.
There were still four cracks.
I whispered to myself "Am I even real?"
No answer.
Not even from myself.
...
That night i dreamed, except it didn't feel like a dream.
I stood in the middle of a street I didn't recognize. The sky looked like broken glass and the buildings looked like they were bent at impossible angles. There was a figure of a person in front of me with its back turned, staring at something I couldn't see.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The figure was unfazed.
Then it turned its head slightly towards me. It was just enough for me to see the edge of its face.
It was me.
Not older, not younger. Just me.
But still not.
And right before i was about to wake up, he said "This isn't the first time."
...
I woke gasping for air. Cold sweat ran down my back. My room was dark and the fan was buzzing.
I stared at the ceiling.
Five cracks.
I didn't blink this time.