As I looked into the mirror with a straight face, the reflection of me was smiling. A big, broad smile that looked evil. The sight sent a shiver down my spine. I quickly removed my focus, trying to shake off the unease creeping in. When I looked again, horrified, the reflection of me also seemed horrified, mirroring my fear.
Maybe this was just one of the many side effects of a straight seven-hour study session. The life of a medical student wasn't easy. I still had much and more to study, but my body protested with a strong urge to sleep
Determined to push through, I went downstairs into the kitchen and opened every cabinet in search of coffee powder. Caffeine, at this point, was something of a drug for me—a necessary evil to keep me functioning through endless nights of study. I searched through every cabinet, my movements growing more frantic with each empty shelf I encountered, but there was no coffee powder to be found.
"What's wrong, sweetheart? Want something to eat?" my mom said in her usual caring voice as she entered the kitchen to start the night's dishes.
"I just had dinner 15 minutes ago. I just want some coffee. Where's the coffee powder?" I replied, my frustration slipping through in my tone.
"You used the last of it to make coffee the day before yesterday. There's no more," she said, her tone softening, almost apologetic.
"I'll just go to old man Semion then," I said, already moving toward the door.
"At this late hour?" my mom called after me, concern lacing her voice.
"Might as well grab some wine for me while you're at it. Semion owes me that much at least," my dad shouted from the living room, half-joking.
"You've been drinking way too much lately. You should care more about your health," my mom countered, her voice carrying a familiar note of worry.
"A little bit of wine never killed anyone," my dad retorted, a hint of irritation creeping in.
I left them both to their argument as I stepped out into the cold night. The air was crisp and biting, sending a shiver through me as I zipped up my jacket and set off toward the nearest coffee shop owned by my dad's friend, Semion.
Semion was a good man, though old. He used to narrate stories to me when I was a child and still sometimes played soccer with me and my friends despite his constant back pain. The thought of his warm, welcoming shop was the only thing that kept me moving through the eerie stillness of the night.
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The street was unusually quiet, the only sound being my footsteps echoing against the pavement. The street lamps, being the frauds they were, offered little help. Their weak glow barely illuminated the path ahead, forcing me to use my phone's flashlight to see anything at all. It was a no-moon night, making everything around me feel darker and more oppressive.
The entire journey was simply uncomfortable. There was a constant, nagging feeling that somebody was following me, or perhaps I'd just watched too many horror movies. I quickened my pace, the cold air biting at my cheeks as I hurried toward the shop.
But when I finally reached the place where there should've been a big sign reading "Sip and Tip Coffee Shop," there was nothing. Instead of the familiar, cozy coffee shop, there was an abandoned lot with only an orange sign that read "Under construction, proceed with caution." A fence surrounded the area, blocking any entry.
Confusion and unease washed over me. This didn't make sense at all—I had been to this shop just last week. Had Semion decided to move out? Even if he did, he wouldn't do so without at least informing Dad.
My mind raced, trying to grasp the surreal shift in reality. The unsettling feeling of being watched grew stronger, and I couldn't shake the sensation that something was terribly wrong.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the empty lot, my breath visible in the cold night air. The street, now silent and menacing, seemed to close in around me. I wanted to talk to old man Semion, but I didn't know where he lived, and I didn't have his contact number.
I turned on my heel and hurried back home, my steps echoing louder in the stillness, each one accompanied by a growing sense of dread. The journey back was just as uncomfortable, if not more, than the walk to the shop. The darkness seemed to press in on me from all sides, the cold night air chilling me to the bone.
When I finally reached home, I released a high sigh of relief, the familiar warmth of the house wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
I immediately went into my parents' room to ask them about Semion, but when I entered, they were both fast asleep. The soft sounds of their breathing filled the room, a stark contrast to the eerie silence outside.
I quietly closed the door and went upstairs. I was supposed to do another three-hour study session, but that was out of the question now. My mind was racing with too many unanswered questions. I looked at the clock on the wall, ready to turn off the light, but something caught my eye. The seconds hand was going backward. The clock was moving in reverse.
I rubbed my eyes, convinced that exhaustion was playing tricks on me, but when I looked again, the seconds hand was still ticking backward. Panic surged through me as I grabbed the clock off the wall, shaking it as if that would fix the bizarre malfunction. But no matter what I did, the clock continued to tick in reverse, defying all logic.
I was too tired to deal with this strange phenomenon. With a heavy sigh, I placed the clock on the table, not bothering to hang it back up. I crawled into bed, pulling the covers over me as I tried to shake off the unease that had settled deep in my bones. Sleep came slowly, and when it did, it was restless and filled with disturbing dreams.
It was surely a weird day. I almost feel like I'm a novel character being written by someone.