When I opened my eyes, I was already moving.
The woods stretched endlessly around me, quiet in a way that felt too still to be real--like even the air had decided to hold its breath. My steps were slow, my feet carrying me forward on a path I didn't remember choosing, but somehow didn't question. The ground beneath me was soft, undisturbed. The deeper I went, the more the world behind me seemed to disappear, swallowed by shadows and silence.
I didn't feel afraid. If anything, I felt… drawn.
The trees began to thin gradually, their tall frames giving way to open space as I stepped into a clearing without realizing when the transition had happened. Moonlight poured down through the opening above, casting a soft glow across the ground and illuminating the figure standing at its center.
A man.
I stopped without meaning to, my breath catching as my eyes settled on him. He wasn't moving, wasn't speaking, just...standing there. There was something familiar about the way he held himself, something steady and grounded that made my chest tighten in a way I didn't understand.
I took a slow step forward, then another, my body moving before I could decide whether I should.
"Do I know you?" I asked, my voice quieter than I expected, as if the clearing itself demanded it.
He didn't answer right away.
Instead, he looked at me.
I felt it instantly: that steady, unwavering attention settling over me, almost tangible. But when I tried to see him clearly, his features wouldn't hold. It wasn't shadow, and it wasn't distance. It was as if my mind refused to finish the image.
I frowned slightly and took another step closer. Frustration and curiosity tangled together as I tried again to make sense of what hovered just out of reach. He shifted then, just enough to close the distance between us, and a quiet pull in my chest responded without permission--not fear, but softer. Deeper.
"Have we met?" I asked, my voice steadier this time, though the question didn't feel entirely like a question.
The closer I got, the stronger that feeling became, settling into me like a memory I had forgotten rather than something new. My heart began to pick up, not out of panic, but from something I couldn't quite name, an insistence that made it hard to look away even when I couldn't fully see him.
"I know you," I said quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
He didn't confirm it, didn't deny it. He just kept looking at me in that same steady way, like he was waiting for me to understand something on my own. I took one more step closer, close enough now that I should have been able to see him clearly--no question left.
But there still was.
The harder I tried to focus, the more his face slipped away, just beyond reach, no matter the distance. My brows pulled together, frustration rising sharper now.
"Why can't I see you?"
He didn't answer. And just as the question left me, just as something in my chest tightened like I was finally about to understand—the world shifted. The clearing blurred. The light fractured. And everything slipped away before I could hold onto it.
---
I woke up with a sharp inhale, my heart pounding hard enough to make my chest ache as I struggled to pull myself fully back into the present. For a moment, everything felt slightly off, like I hadn't completely returned yet. It felt as if a part of me was stuck in that dream world--a world I couldn't reach, no matter how hard I tried to focus on it.
"What the hell…" I murmured under my breath, my voice still thick with sleep as I pushed myself upright.
The movement was too fast, and I immediately regretted it when a sharp pulse of pain shot through my ankle. I pressed my lips together and waited for the throbbing to settle, letting the discomfort ground me in a way nothing else could. As the pain dulled, the room slowly came back into focus, and familiar shapes settled into place until everything made sense again. Late afternoon light stretched across the floor in long, quiet lines, as if nothing had changed.
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly as I tried to shake off the lingering weight of whatever I had just come out of, but it didn't fade as easily as I wanted it to. It wasn't clear enough to call a memory, but it wasn't gone either--out of reach but impossible to ignore.
There had been someone.
I couldn't see him, couldn't place him, but the feeling of him lingered in a way that didn't make sense. It wasn't fear, and it wasn't confusion--it was quieter. It settled in my chest and refused to move, no matter how much I tried to dismiss it.
"That was weird," I muttered, though even that felt like an understatement.
If I couldn't remember him, if I couldn't even picture his face, then it should have been easy to let it go, but instead it stuck with me in a way that made it harder to ignore the more I tried to push it aside. I let out a small breath and reached for my phone, the screen lighting up in my hand as a message came into view.
Hey! Picking Demi up like usual after school. I'll be at the house a little after you leave for your shift.
I read it once, then again, letting the familiar and predictable settle over me as I exhaled softly.
"Okay… good."
At least that part of my day was still normal, even if everything else felt just slightly out of place.