The drawer shouldn’t be open. Not again. Not this time

My hands instinctively rush to my head, pressing against my skull like I can keep my thoughts from splintering. It doesn’t help. The pain sharpens. I know I closed it. I’m sure of it. But… Did I? The certainty cracks, and doubt creeps in... Maybe I forgot. Or maybe… maybe it was always open?

The longer I look, the less certain I feel. It’s just a drawer, so why do I feel this way? Why? Is there something more, something I am missing?

I step back. My movements feel heavy, each shift dragging against the floor. My eyes look around the room, searching for something, anything that's out of place. The tilted picture frame, the chair moved an inch, the drawer. These little things tear away at the edge of my mind.

I approach the drawer slowly, each step lingers behind the next. My hand passes over the handle, twitching. What am I looking for? What am I trying to prove? Inside. I knew that it would just be the same things, the same junk. Some pens, papers, maybe a key I hadn’t used. Nothing important. But the way the drawer was open clawed at the back of my mind.

I blink and the room changes.

Everything’s back in place. The chair. Aligned, the picture frame. Upright. The drawer. Closed. Breath catches in my throat. It tightens. My fingers shake as they brush over the desk. Solid wood. It's real. I am not imagining it. Everything is Fine. Right?

I can’t shake the feeling.

Something is wrong. It's there lurking on me. I don't know what but something pressing down on me. Just outside my awareness. A vague sound, no, a thought enters my mind but it slips before I can grasp its meaning.

I turn toward the door, each step dragging, the air around me thick and heavy. The drawer is closed now, but the weight of it lingers in my chest.

Then it comes.

A whisper.

Soft at first, too fast to be real.

“Kaito.”

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I freeze. My breath catches in my throat. I turn slowly, but the room is empty. The voice grows, now everywhere. My hands that were gripping the doorknob rushed to my head, pressing to the sides of my skull like I was trying to hold my mind together. No, no this isn't happening. This voice,

I must be imagining it.

My knees feel weak, but I force them to move. Grabbing my jacket, I stumble into the hallway. The air there is no better. The walls press in, narrowing around me as my ragged breath takes to the staircase.

I look back at the door, it's wrong now. No, it's farther away, distant. More than it should be. My pulse quickens the hum of the fluorescent lights above quickens.

I force myself forward. My eyes locked at the end of the stairway. The stairs. I just need to make it there.

The hallway stretched before me, longer, farther than it should as if it were folding in on itself. My steps slow, dragging against some kind of invisible weight. The walls pulse with a faint hum, like a heartbeat I can’t escape. The hum intensifies, vibrating in my teeth.

By the time I reach the stairs, my legs feel like lead. The door opens and I push it with a groan. The echo bounces down the stairwell, vanishing into the darkness below.

The stairs feel steeper than they should be. My hands trembling grip the railing tightly, and the cold metal burns in my palm.

I reach the top of the staircase and push open the rooftop door. Cold air cuts through the haze in my mind. For a second the city noise approached me, the distant traffic, the hum of conversations. But it doesn't last.

The voice comes again. It's louder this time.

“Kaito, where are you?”

I stumble forward now clutching my head. The voice isn’t in my ears anymore. It’s everywhere. In the wind, the pounding of my pulse. Everywhere. It burrows deeper, threading through my veins. “Where are you?” the words tighten, strangling my breath, my thoughts fracturing under its weight.

No. It's deeper than that.

It's inside me.

The rooftop tilts underfoot and I stagger, catching myself against the edge of the railing. My heart pounds too fast, too quick.

Where are you?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shut them out, but the words echo louder, pulling me under.

But it doesn't.

The world cracks around me. My legs collapse, sending me to my knees. My hands are still grappling my head, this time the nails claw deeper into my skull trying to silence the world.

So why does it feel so real? Tell me why? Tell me. Tell me. Tell me! My voice is screaming against the phrase. No against the world. My breath afterward comes in short, shallow gasps.

I open my eyes again. Everything feels different. My body seemed to have sunken deeper into the floor.

The air felt wrong, heavier with each breath. The rooftop shimmered at the edges, bending and twisting like heat waves. Why won't it stop?