After I finished eating, I decided it was time to wash my hands and find Sarah.

My mind was already buzzing with the thought of dancing with her.

I had to admit, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves.

I looked around, expecting to find her chatting with her friends, but she wasn’t there.

That’s strange, I thought.

Spotting Gunther still inhaling food at the buffet table, I made my way over.

"You are still eating?" I asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide my curiosity.

Gunther glanced up at me, his mouth full of food.

"You should also eat more," he said between bites, clearly enjoying himself.

I shook my head, laughing a bit. "No, I’ll eat again after dancing a bit."

He shrugged, not really paying much attention. "Okay. As you wish."

I paused for a moment, scanning the area again, but still no sign of Sarah.

"Hey, by the way did you see Sarah go somewhere?" I asked, expecting a quick answer.

But Gunther’s reply made me stop in my tracks.

"Umm... who is Sarah?" he asked, genuinely confused.

I stared at him, my eyebrows pulling together.

"What do you mean, who’s Sarah? The girl who always competes with me? You’ve seen her a thousand times, man!"

Gunther blinked at me, chewing slowly as if trying to process my words.

"But... no one competes with you in anything," he said, sounding sincere.

For a moment, I thought he was messing with me.

Maybe it was some kind of weird joke he and the others had cooked up.

But he didn’t laugh. He wasn’t teasing.

"Forget it," I muttered, frustration rising.

I turned and moved toward Steve, Paul, and Donovan, hoping one of them would give me a proper answer.

"Hey, Steve," I called out as I approached. "Did you see Sarah anywhere?"

Steve looked at me with the same blank expression Gunther had. "Who’s Sarah?"

I felt my stomach twist, an uneasy sensation creeping into my chest.

"You’re joking, right?" I asked, my voice edged with irritation. "Sarah. Our class representative. The girl I always argue with in class."

Steve glanced at Paul and Donovan, who both shook their heads in confusion.

"No, man. I don’t know anyone named Sarah," Steve said, turning to the others. "Do you guys?"

Paul frowned, scratching his head. "Nope, never heard of her."

Donovan shrugged. "Nah, man. There’s no Sarah in our class."

My heart started pounding in my chest, and the room around me felt like it was closing in.

"What the hell are you all talking about?" I shouted, my voice louder than I intended, a mix of anger and fear creeping into my tone.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

How could they not know her?

She was always there, always competing with me in class, always… always.

My heart was pounding, my mind spinning out of control.

I felt like the world was playing some cruel joke on me, but everyone was dead serious.

"Are you alright, dude? There’s no one named Sarah in our class," Steve repeated, his voice calm, almost too calm.

I stood there for a second, stunned, watching their faces, looking for a crack, a sign that this was all some prank.

But their eyes held nothing but confusion.

A chill ran down my spine, and my skin prickled with fear.

How could they forget her?

How could they act like she never existed?

I didn’t wait for more explanations.

My feet moved before I could even think, racing across the room, weaving between the crowd as my pulse quickened.

I reached her friends, the ones she always hung out with, my breath catching in my throat.

"Hey, can you tell me where Sarah went?" I asked, my voice strained, desperate.

One of the girls turned to me, her face puzzled. "Who is Sarah?"

I stared at her, my chest tightening.

"Your friend!" I said, almost shouting. "The one with brown hair, tall, always with you!"

The girl blinked, tilting her head like she was genuinely confused.

"Sorry, but none of my friends are named Sarah," she said, her voice soft but it hit me like a hammer.

My vision blurred with disbelief. "What the hell is going on!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the hall.

The girl backed away slightly. "Are you alright?" she asked, concern in her eyes, but I didn’t answer.

Without thinking, I turned and ran again, weaving through the crowd, my mind racing faster than my feet.

I needed answers, and fast. My breath came in ragged gasps as I spotted Mr. Charles, our homeroom teacher.

He was standing at the edge of the hall, talking to another student.

"Hey, Michael, are you okay?" he asked, his eyes widening as he noticed my frantic state. "Why are you running like this?"

"Sir," I gasped, "do you know Sarah in our class? Please tell me you do."

He furrowed his brow, shaking his head slowly.

"No... there isn't any student of that name in our class. What’s going on?"

"Sir, please," I begged, almost losing control, my voice cracking.

"She’s the topper of our class, always competing with me! Please, just try to remember."

But what he said next sent a cold wave through me.

"Michael," he said gently, "you’re the topper of our class."

I stumbled back a step, feeling the ground shift beneath me.

His words were like a punch to the gut.

Me? I wasn’t the topper, Sarah was.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing was adding up.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest, and I felt like I was sinking, drowning in a sea of confusion.

I spun around, catching sight of Mr. Davis, Sarah’s older brother.

He would know. He had to know.

I rushed up to him, practically breathless.

"Mr. Davis!" I called, my voice shaking. "Did you see Sarah? Where is she?"

He looked at me with the same confusion I’d seen in everyone else’s eyes.

"Who is she?" he asked, as if it was the first time he’d ever heard her name.

"Your sister, Sarah!" I shouted, my voice rising in desperation. "Don’t you remember her?"

But his reply felt like a dagger to my chest. "I don’t have a sister, Michael."

The words hit me like a brick wall, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I stared at him, wide-eyed, the world spinning out of control around me.

Everything felt wrong—like a terrible nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

"No..." I whispered, shaking my head as tears welled up in my eyes. "No, that’s not possible..."

How could everyone have forgotten her?

How could she just disappear from their memories, as if she never existed at all?

My chest tightened, panic clawing its way up my throat.

Was I losing my mind?

The night was spiraling into chaos, my mind a storm of unanswered questions and overwhelming confusion.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest as I darted from group to group, asking the same question over and over, hoping for an answer that made sense.

"Have you seen Sarah? Where is she?"

Blank stares. Shrugs. Confused glances.

Not a single person knew who I was talking about.

It was as if she had vanished, not just from the party, but from everyone’s memory.

Her name drew only empty expressions, like she had never existed at all.

Panic clawed at my insides. I could feel it rising, suffocating.

I sprinted toward the dance floor, hoping against hope to find her there.

My heart was pounding in my ears, my breath ragged.

Students were already dancing, their faces joyful, carefree—but I felt like I was falling apart, like I was on the verge of losing myself.

I was supposed to dance with Sarah.

That thought kept replaying in my mind, a tether keeping me from completely unraveling.

But why did it feel like I was the only one who knew her, the only one who remembered?

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.

Or at least, I thought I did.

For a fleeting moment, there she was.

Her figure slipped between the others, illuminated briefly by the flashes of light.

Relief surged through me, and I hurried toward her, my breath catching in my throat.

"Sarah?" I called out, my voice trembling with hope and desperation.

She turned around, but the moment our eyes met, my heart sank.

It wasn’t her.

Just a stranger, with no answers for me.

"Do you need any help?" she asked, her voice kind but distant.

I shook my head, my throat tightening.

"No... it’s nothing." I muttered, backing away, feeling like the ground was crumbling beneath me.

I stood there, drowning in anxiety, the weight of the world pressing down on my chest.

My head lowered, I couldn’t think straight anymore.

My vision blurred with worry.

And then, cutting through the noise, I heard it—a familiar voice.

Clear, distinct, like an anchor pulling me back from the brink of madness.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

I spun around, and there she was. Sarah.

Standing right in front of me, like nothing was wrong.

My heart leapt, and without thinking, I threw my arms around her, holding her tight as if she might vanish again at any moment.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft, confused by my sudden embrace.

I froze, realizing what I’d done. I quickly stepped back, letting go of her.

"Yeah, I’m okay," I lied, my voice shaky.

But I wasn’t okay. I was anything but okay.

My mind was screaming with questions.

I wanted to tell her about everyone’s strange behavior, about the fear and confusion consuming me.

But I stopped.

Sarah stood there, watching me with those familiar eyes, but something about her felt... different.

Something was off, but I couldn’t quite place it.

"By the way," she said, her voice casual, "are you enjoying this?"

Her words caught me off guard.

"Yeah," I answered, though even as I said it, something about the question felt wrong. "I’m enjoying it."

But then her expression shifted, a chill creeping into her features.

"I don’t think you understood my question," she said, her voice dropping.

The warmth vanished, replaced by something distant, cold.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my throat tightening.

Her smile faded, and in its place, a cold, emotionless stare.

A shiver ran down my spine as I looked at her again.

"Are you enjoying this dream, my friend?" she asked, her tone icy, detached.

Her words hit me like a slap to the face, sending my mind reeling.

My body froze for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

I was frozen, staring at her—at the girl I thought I knew.

But now, standing before me, she felt like a stranger.

No, worse than a stranger.

She felt like something... wrong.